To Feel Loved
by Fullmetal Angel 17
Summary: "Don't tell me we have the same class together?" I couldn't help the bit of desperation that escaped into my voice when I asked. "Why? I thought you enjoyed my company since you like staring at me so much." AU, Ratatosk/Marta fic.
1. First Day of High School

**A/N:** After seeing the very small, almost miniscule, amount of fics dedicated to this fandom, I decided to take up the challenge and write a fic for my fav OTP in TOSR: Ratatosk and Marta! Woo hoo! \^o^/

Anyways, I personally felt that Ratatosk was cheated out of his own happiness. And check this out: Marta is head-over-heels in love with Emil, yet all he thinks and talks about is Richter. Hello~ You have a pretty girl throwing herself at you, yet you think about another person's well being? Come on! At first, I really liked Emil's character; he was different from the rest of the heroines of the Tales games. But later, it got annoying to see him deny Marta's affections for a guy who tried to kill him may I remind you. Then there's Ratatosk. He was a real jerk before. But then he started to get to know Marta. And before you know it, he begins fighting along side her and proclaiming how he'll always protect her. But Marta was too stuck on the idea of loving Emil to take his feelings into consideration. Now don't get me wrong. I don't hate Emil or anything. I still like his character…err, just not with Marta is all.

So to help those of this shipping feel relieved from the obviously bad ending to the good ending (and you know exactly what I'm talking about), I present you with my own take of TOSR in AU form. Hopefully, this'll be satisfactory for some of you. So without further a due, I'll let you get to reading my first Ratatosk/Marta fic. Enjoy.

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**Chapter 1: First Day of High School**

I remember walking this path all the time some years ago. I would hang out with my friends by the cherry tree near the lake and we'd stare out to the endless waves and dazzling sunset for hours on end. It was a hobby of ours. We did this for three years since our meeting in elementary school. And each year, we'd tell ourselves that we'd be grannies at sixty and we'd still be hanging out by the cherry tree and watching the sun go down. We laughed loudly at the mental image we conjured of us looking like wrinkly bags and topped with puffy white hair (and maybe a cat or two beside us).

But I never would have expected that it'd come to an end so abruptly. It felt like just yesterday when we were laughing amongst ourselves, counting down the days when we'd move up the age ladder and attend high school together. We promised to get lockers next to one another and plan out the outfits we were to wear on the first day. But like that old saying goes: all good things must come to an end. And they did too. One of the girls moved away, due to her dad being transferred else where, and the other decided to ditch me for another group of people, saying that I'm, and I quote, "Not popular enough."

Since then, my life took a turn for the worst. But I don't feel up to explaining right now. I'm late as heck, and on the first day of high school for that matter! And I've heard from other students of being fashionably late. But I don't think they meant for the saying to apply to punctuality at school.

Ring, ring, ring.

Great. Just flipping great! There goes the tardy bell and what's this…they're closing the entrance gate!

"Please, wait! I have to get to the opening ceremony!" I ran as fast as I could while shouting at the teacher to keep the gate open. But the pompous snob had to go and lock it up either way. And after I specifically shouted at him not to do it! The jerk gave me an angry glance and turned on his heel towards the school. Hmph!

Oh, he'll rue the day he decided to keep me from attending my first day of high school. Yes, indeed he will.

During my moments of fury, an idea sprung in my head. I ran to a tree that was leaning near the wall that fenced in the school. I was smiling confidently before it, my hands propped on either side of my hips. During my many years of adolescence to now, I've read enough mangas to know that climbing a tree wasn't difficult. The task itself looked pretty simple: climb the tree and haul yourself over the wall. Simple as that. So I held on to the base and lifted my legs on either side to climb it. Yup, so far so good. I grabbed onto a low hanging branch and used that to pull myself upward, feet pressed hard on the tree while I began my trek to the top.

But let me tell you firsthand, climbing that tree wasn't as easy as I judged it for. My feet kept slipping on the rough bark, the tree was freakin huge (along with the wall I was supposed to climb over), and did I mention that I'm mildly afraid of heights? Well, I am. But when a girl is in desperation, she'll do all she can to overcome the obstacles before her. And this case was no exception. I was determined to get over the wall and make it to hear at least the end of the speech delivered by the upperclassmen.

After some kind of miracle, and a lot of mental praying, I reached the top, getting away with only minor cuts to the knee. I crawled my way through all the leaves and came across a branch that went towards the wall. The only problem, it thinned out at the end. I could feel my legs shaking at the prospect of falling off it. I rubbed at them vigorously, trying to calm my nerves before I took that big step towards the wall. I definitely didn't need shaky legs when I needed to keep absolute balance on this branch. And while it didn't remedy the issue, the rubbing managed to make them less shaky than before. So with a large intake of breath, I crawled forward. But of course, that didn't get me very far.

"Ouch! Stupid tree." About half of my hair coiled itself around a branch, causing the floral pin on my hair to loosen around my face. I carefully attempted to free the brown locks, without yanking too hard and hurling myself off the very thin branch I just happened to be climbing on when my hair got caught. Easier said than done. Oh, and while we're at it, easier than balancing a large elephant on top of a small beach ball.

I kept yanking on it with all the strength I could muster at this rather difficult angle till, lo and behold, gravity decided to become my worst enemy and have me fall off the branch instead. And just like that, everything happened in slow motion before my very eyes. I felt the air push up against my body, swishing my now loose hair around, as I plummeted towards the ground with my eyes shut tightly. Memories flashed rapidly in my mind, mostly those consisting of my mother and the happiness I had before everything went downhill. But now, there's no way in heck I was going to be able to explain my life's tragedy now. Especially not when I was falling to my imminent death. I let out one last scream, thinking that it'll help to relieve the pain I was sure to feel (and in these cases, who wouldn't let out a terrified scream?). In just a few more seconds, I was going to feel it.

Yup, definitely going to feel some massive pain.

Ok…now I should be feeling it.

Hm. Well, I sure did land on something hard. But it wasn't as painful as I had imagined.

So am I dead already? Because if I am, then wow.

Now that was most uneventful. Not that I'm disappointed about dying, because I sure am. But shouldn't I have felt…I don't know…a lot of pain from falling so far down? I mean, it's not like I fell off the jungle bars or anything small like that.

And last I checked, grass didn't feel soft and edgy. In fact, it shouldn't have felt warm when I clearly saw the sprinklers go off not long before I decided to climb the tree.

'_What the heck is going on here?' _ I thought to myself, confusion creating a jumble in my head.

I cracked one eye open, expecting to see the shine from the Golden Gates blaring down on me. But instead of angels playing trumpets on clumps of puffy white clouds, I saw the face of a teenage boy with blonde hair and the most gorgeous ruby red eyes I've ever seen.

Ok. So maybe I was in heaven. Just in the part with handsome guys like this one.

I took a closer look at the person who was holding me up in a princess lift (and how befitting for someone who looked much like that of a prince) and instantly regretted it when I did. He was breathing heavily as though he'd ran a marathon, a deep scowl marring his face. And his eyes were narrowed towards my own. When he saw me staring at him, he let out a small grunt under his breath and tightened his hands around my thighs. Well, he most certainly didn't have the demeanor of a prince.

I really am in heaven…right?

"The hell…huff…with you. Did you…huff…fuckin…want to die…huff…or something? Damn idiot."

Scratch that; I'm in hell right now. For this is clearly NOT the prince charming I'd imagined him to be. And what the heck is his deal calling me an idiot? He doesn't even know me, the jerk!

"Well? Are you going to say something or should I assume that little stunt of yours also made you mute?"

I could feel my face warm up considerably, and not because of how he looked either. I bolted from his arms and turned an accusing finger at the mystery person, sporting my own scowl and narrowed eyes.

"Ok, you listen here! First of all, you have no idea who I am. So that doesn't give you the right to call me an idiot. And secondly, I don't owe you a single explanation after the rude attitude you used with me."

He didn't seem fazed in the least after my little rant. In fact, he looked somewhat amused by my temper. The sight of his smirk just caused my blood to boil over the top.

"Wow. Aren't you quite the fire cracker."

"Shut up!"

"Is this the thanks I get for saving your pathetic life?"

"…!" That one hit home, alright. But I kept myself composed so as not to give him the satisfaction of riling me up.

"For someone who's a jerk like you, I'd say that's all the thanks you deserve." I confidently propped my hands on my waist, a taunting smirk forming on my lips. My answer apparently caused his smirk to falter some, another grunt voiced through his tight-lip mouth. The odds were in my favor now.

"Trying to act all tough now, huh?" His tone lost the humor from before, replaced by anger instead.

"Oh, I'm not trying to act tough. I'm just not like most girls that bow down to men and take all their bad mouthing." Haha! Take that.

"Do you really wanna go there, girly?" If possible, his eyes narrowed even more on his face. I also saw him clench his right hand in irritation, the fabric of his pants being scrunched between calloused fingers.

"Oh, but what exactly do you mean?" I said in a naïve way, batting my eyelashes so as to anger him more. I was getting a real kick out of his reactions. Come on. This guy was all talk, no action. Besides, he started this whole thing first with the name calling. He should of known that I wasn't going to back down so easy.

"You know exactly what I mean."

"Really? Because if I'm correct, then I know you don't have the guts to do anything about it. Besides, from what I can see, you're the type of guy who likes to make fun of others and never take their feelings into consideration. If there's anyone that needs to say anything, it should be you apologizing to me."

"Oh, like I'm going to apologize to you for your dumb idea of climbing the tree. And what do you think would of happened if I hadn't come to your rescue when you were falling from it? Huh? Answer me that."

It took some effort on my part from mauling this guy where he stood. He was seriously getting on my nerves all too quickly.

"Look: I'm not ashamed to say how appreciated I am that you saved my life. But don't save someone and then call them an idiot or mute."

"I'm just saying it like it is. Climbing a large tree IS a dumb idea, smart one." I growled at the comment. "And you should have said something, instead of looking at me all stupid like you did."

I balled my hands into fists, shoving them in the pockets of my skirt to avoid any violent behavior on my first day of school. For as much as I would have LOVED to smash his face in, I knew that getting in trouble was a no no. Because that would mean getting in trouble at home. And I would much rather avoid any confrontation there.

"Did you ever consider that maybe I was experiencing shock from the whole thing, rendering me temporarily mute?" Good. Keep up the confident air and he won't be able to get to you.

But he must have took that as a challenge because he suddenly began walking towards me. And as he made his way there, my instincts kept telling me to walk away from the situation before it progressed any further. But the more stubborn part told me to stand my ground and face this guy head on, regardless if this turned into a fist fight or not. And guess which one I listened to?

Yup. That's right. I stayed there like an idiot, taunting him with the fact that I didn't run away like I'm sure he expected of me. But I made sure to keep my hands in my pockets during that time. Because even then, I still had my good behavior to uphold.

"You're pretty gutsy for a girl, you know that?" The infamous smirk returned on his, dare I say, handsome face. But I was none to thrilled to see it again.

"And what's it to you?" It was getting harder to hold in my anger and the little ting of fear that crawled its way up my legs and to my now trembling hands. His stature easily over towered my own and I caught a glimpse of muscles through the opening of his short sleeve shirt. But I wasn't scared of him.

No.

I was scared by the striking resemblance of this situation. It reminded me all too much of a certain someone…

"It's that attitude of yours that's bound to get you attention from the wrong crowd. Are you sure you want to be acting like this with me?" His large hand made its way to my chin, pulling my face closer to his. "Because it's never too late to apologize and be on your merry way right now."

"Bite me." I told him, putting as much venom into my voice as possible (which wasn't much of a struggle to do, considering my immense anger with him).

He leaned his mouth towards my ear, causing what I felt to have been a blush to stain my cheeks. I mentally cursed myself for allowing such reactions to show on my face when I was supposed to be acting tough in front of him. Good thing he decided to lean onto my face, preventing him from catching a glimpse of my involuntarily reddened skin. But of course, that thought alone didn't erase the feelings of bewilderment and fright that caused me to tremble at the knees from his next comment.

"With pleasure." After he whispered his conviction, he pulled back with an even larger smile. A twinkle shined in his eyes, indicating mischief and a dark desire for something unknown to myself. I was started to regret my bull-headedness that got me into this mess. and what made matters worse, his face was close enough to where it looked like we were going to kiss. and I'm pretty sure he knew this, for he was breathing hot breath on my lips and he kept averting his gaze between my eyes and frowning mouth. Darn him for being a jerk and handsome. Now I was looking at his lips.

"Hey, you two over there! You know better than to be outside the school grounds while classes are in session."

A jolt went through my body when I heard an older person's voice yell out to us, thus breaking the trance that jerk had on me. I quickly pulled away from the guy to regard the teacher walking to us. He looked peeved from seeing two students not in their classes, which only reminded me how much more stupid I'd been to have wasted all my time arguing with someone instead of trying to get to my class. I groaned with annoyance from this, slapping a hand over my face to conceal my utter defeat.

The teacher got within speaking range and reverted his stare between the both of us. "And what exactly were you two doing out here, anyways?"

That was a question I didn't want to answer, especially since the jerk's face being close to my own was still fresh in my mind. None of us said anything for a wihle (and I didn't because of unease. He? Not sure), until the jerk decided to jump in. Was he going to try to get us out of this mess? "Nothing at all, sir. In fact, this matter right here is unimportant. But I can assure you that it won't happen again." Spoke too soon. I nearly barfed at the fake courtesy in his voice.

'_Judging by his attitude, I can easily tell he's done this one too many times before. And the nerve of him to say that I'm unimportant. He's just lucky we were caught by a teacher right now, or I would have unleashed a world of pain on that pretty face of his.'_

The teacher stared long and hard at the jerk throb, as though unsure of what to make of his words. But he looked convinced enough as he straightened his posture, giving us one final glance.

"Ok. But don't let me catch you two out here again. Got it?"

The guy turned his eyes to me, giving off the jerkiest smile on the planet. "Of course, sir. We won't."

"Good. Now follow me to the office so we can get you two situated."

I walked to the left side of the teacher while fixing the flower pin in my hair, so as to avoid the jerk's evil snickering. I was more than anticipating the moment when I would be free of him and his arrogant attitude that's for sure.

Said jerk kept to the right of the teacher, looking straight ahead with a bored look on his face. He was probably thinking to himself of how he won the little match. The jerk. I kept staring at him for any sign of mischief (at least, that's what I convinced myself of). Stupid memory of his face kept coming back to me and I didn't like it one bit. Why the heck did he have to be so handsome, anyways? Fighting with him would of been much easier if he hadn't had the ability to fluster me. Darn him!

I saw his face twitch as we neared the school entrance, perplexing me for a second as to why he reacted that way. But now I know why. He sensed me looking at him (dummy me) because he right away turned his gaze towards mine, arrogant smile and all, and mouthed a 'hey' in my direction. I was well beyond infuriated with him. So I gave him the stink eye and turned my attention to the double doors of the school.

I was awed by the interior of the school. All the walls were painted a pretty caramel color and adorned at the top with painted portraits of all the principals that taught here. The lockers looked newly refurbished in a lilac green and the floors were a gleaming white, to the point that I could see my reflection in it. Soft music filtered through the intercoms and the school smelt of lavander. It was just as I'd pictured it. I'm definitely glad I worked my butt off in studying to get into this high quality school. The elder man stopped a nearby teacher and informed him to do another round outside the school for any other students, bid him farewell and led us further down the hall.

We were escorted to the office where the teacher left us to take care of his own business. And I dreaded this because me and the jerk were left alone until aided by someone there. When the teacher was out of sight, I walked over to the front desk (never once taking a look at the guy) and propped my elbows on the wooden furniture as I waited patiently for assistance. And I did this for a couple of minutes in absolute silence, all the while avoiding any conversation with the jerk close behind me. I could practically feel his eyes boring holes onto the back of my head and smirking over my defeat. He was taunting me. I know it. But I kept my anger grounded, for my sake at least.

So finally, after waiting an insufferable five minutes, a bubbly secretary lady came around and asked me what I needed.

"Hi. I'm here to get my schedule card." I chimed in.

She pulled out a box filled with schedule cards and looked to me, with the lid to the box popped open. "And what is your name?"

I was a little hesitant at first to give the woman my name. But only because the jerk behind me would have an easier way of finding me if he knew what my name was. But I answered nonetheless. I mean, how else was I supposed to get by in this school without a schedule to follow from?

"Marta Lualdi." As soon as those words left my mouth, I heard the jerk give a 'Hm' in response. I ignored the comment and looked straight at the secretary.

"Ok." She began sorting through the numerous cards, repeating my last name to herself from time to time. Apparently, there were a lot of people in the L category that either hadn't attended school today or were in the process of coming by the office to pick them up later because there was a large stack of cards there. She managed to find mines amongst all of them and handed it to me.

"Here you are, Miss. Now run along to your class and have a good first day of school." She gave me a wave of the hand as I exited the room, my own hand waving back from the door. When I rounded the corner of the office, I heaved a sigh of relief because I was glad to know that I didn't have to deal with that jerk anymore. And hopefully, this would be the last time we saw one another. Hopefully.

I took a look at my school schedule and walked around in search of my class. But this school was so enormous (as in three stories tall), that my efforts were soon becoming futile. By this point, I was aimlessly roaming the halls in search of a class that I didn't know the location to.

'_Man, what a good first day I'm having.' _I thought sarcastically in my head. I looked to all the doors, but still didn't find the room I was supposed to be in forty minutes ago. The minutes on my watch were ticking by quick, as though mocking me for being late. This caused my anger to flare up at the miniscule numbers.

I definitely wasn't having a good day, that's for sure. And it's all thanks to my stupid alarm clock for not going off on time. And it's also that stupid jerk's fault for holding me up. Grr! Just thinking about him makes my blood boil.

I walked over to the stairs, taking them two at a time, till I reached the second floor. It looked just as extravagent as the bottom, except the lockers here were painted a bright sky blue color. And many flyers pertaining to school events covered the walls. And if I'm certain, the air smelt like citrus instead of the lavander from before. I saw a few flyers asking people to join their art club. I really liked drawing, so I took a minute to write down the rooms and contact numbers to various art clubs being held.

When I was done with my mini sight-seeing, I resumed my quest for my homeroom class. I looked at all the numbers nailed on the doors. But none were the one I was looking for. I was pretty exhausted from walking everywhere and wanted nothing more than to take a short break. But I summoned whatever will power I had in me to check the other hall I hadn't gone through on this floor.

I swiftly turned around on my heel, renewed determination coursing through my veins, when I suddenly collided into someone. The impact was strong and had me stumbling backward onto the ground, all my notebooks from my open backpack sprawled on the ground beside me. I rubbed at my sore butt and looked straight across to see, guess who, that same jerk from earlier rubbing his elbow and hissing under his breath from the pain of falling.

"Well, speak of the devil…" I murmured to myself.

He turned ruby reds in my direction and instantly the smirk plastered onto his face. "Didn't think I'd run into you again."

"Like wise." I retorted with a deadpanned expression. I was in absolutely no mood to deal with his BS again.

"I can see someone is a little lost."

"And what makes you think that?" Shoot. He had me figured out.

His grin grew larger as he spoke. "Someone who knows their way around doesn't wander from one spot to the other, especially with a clueless look on their face. Maybe you should of stuck around to ask the secretary where your class was instead of thinking that you could do it yourself."

That was the last straw. I couldn't help the rise in tempo of my voice when I shouted at him, "Have you been following me!" This guy was creepier than I thought. I can't BELIEVE I compared this stalking jerk to a prince charming in the beginning. Yuck! What an understatement I went through.

"No. But my class does happen to be this way." He spotted my schedule card on the ground, picked it up, and gave it a look through, to my utter surprise. He turned his attention to me again, waving the piece of paper in his hand all the while. "And from what it looks like, yours is this way also."

I narrowed my eyes some more, not saying a word back in reply. He took my silence in whatever way he thought it to be and proceeded to pick his stuff off the floor. I shook myself from my momentary lapse and went about gathering my own belongings and shoving it in my backpack, remembering to zip it up this time in case of this happening again. When I finished, I looked up to see him standing over me with a look of amusement etched on his face.

"I guess you wouldn't mind if I walked you to your class, right? Or should I leave you to find it yourself, since you were doing such a good job of looking for it before."

Standing before him, I was faced with a tough decision: a) let him guide me to my class and risk him knowing where to look for me or b) refuse his offer and continue roaming the halls until the bell rings for the next class and I repeat the process all over again.

He continued looking at me expectedly, as though he KNEW what I was going to answer. And as ashamed as I am to say this, he was the only person around who knew where my class was. So better to swallow my pride and let him show me the way than to suffer this confusion again later on.

I turned my face to the side, hating the horrible feeling in my mouth from admitting defeat once more. "…Fine. Lead the way."

His smirk stretched from ear-to-ear at this. "I knew you couldn't refuse." He handed me my schedule card and began walking ahead of me. I begrudgingly followed, leaving a considerable amount of space between us because I simply couldn't take him teasing me right now about how close I was to him.

We walked a little ways down until we stood in front of a turquoise door with the name 'World History' painted in a bright yellow by the glass window of the door. I noticed he hadn't moved from his spot next to. Strange. And just like in those cartoons, a light bulb 'animated' itself above my head and brightened with a ding.

That's when it finally clicked.

"Don't tell me we have the same class together?" I couldn't help the bit of desperation that escaped into my voice when I asked.

"Why? I thought you enjoyed my company since you like staring at me so much."

"W-w-what?" I asked in bewilderment, a blush spreading all around my face. "I-I'm not s-staring at you, you jerk!"

"Red is a nice color on you."

"Ah!"

"Come on. Let's go inside before we get in worse trouble." Right after he said that, he turned the knob on the door and grabbed my hand to lead me inside. I put my free hand over my face to cover the blush that took it over.

I heard a woman stop mid lecture, indicating that we were interrupting class. Through the cracks of my spread out fingers, I saw the students turn silent and look at me with questioning stares. And I couldn't blame them either for staring like that. I'd give off the same look if I saw someone walk in with their hand over their blushing face, led in by a boy no less. The interpretations were endless. Some of the girls, on the other hand, were too busy gawking at Mr. Jerk who was explaining to the teacher about why we were late.

At least he had enough sense to do that.

When he was through talking to her, the teacher turned to the class cleared her throat loudly to get the attention of all the students as she pointed to us. "Well, students. It looks like we have some last minute arrivals." She took our schedule cards and read off our names to the class.

"I'd like to introduce you to Ratatosk Castagnier and Marta Lualdi. And because we only have five minutes on the clock, I'll leave the rest of the introductions for after class during your own free time." She looked around the class for a moment before turning her attention back to us.

"Since the both of you arrived late, I'll have to assign you the last two seats in the back. I hope that's alright with you." She pointed to two side desks near the window with her pointer stick. Perfect! I always loved window seats. It made places seem less confining when there was the outside scenery to look at.

We nodded in affirmation and made our way through the others to the back and took our seats ( me sitting on the last seat behind him) before she started up with her lecture again. Some of the students, to my dismay, turned around in their seats with curiosity still evident in their faces. I felt like a circus act in the middle of a tourist crowd.

And to put it bluntly, it was embarrassing.

But class went by quick. Before I knew it, people were rushing to put away their materials and head off to their next class. The same girls that were gawking at that good-for-nothing jerk passed by his desk and handed him slips of paper with their phone numbers possibly written in them. It irritated me a little bit to see it, but I kept my face composed to it. I had no reason to be bothered by it. It's not like he's my boyfriend or anything. I turned around in my seat to unhook my backpack when I heard his voice call out to me.

"You ready, Marta?"

I stood up and put my backpack on, all the while staring at him with the same anger from before. "Ready for what?"

He looked at me like I was stupid, his own backpack slung over his right shoulder. "For our next classes. Duh."

Haha, yeah righ- wait. What did he say just now?

"Did you just say… classes?"

"Oh yeah, that's right. I forgot to inform you that we have all the same classes together. Isn't that just wonderful, Marta?" he asked as he put extra emphasis on my name.

Everything was beginning to blur out. It was at that moment that I felt my world falling apart before me. I was in so much shock that I almost didn't register the laughing that ensued from the jerk in front of me. Or that he put his hand to my back and led me to our next class, taunting me about how we would be sharing classes together for a whole year.

And that was how my life with Ratatosk started on the first day of high school.

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**A/N:** So what did you guys think? Liked it? Loved it? Or just plain hated it? I'll leave the call to you guys (and gals). So leave me a comment telling me how I did and I'll be working on the next chapter in the meantime. Just remember, don't go out into full-blown flaming if you are going to say you disliked it. I still have my standards and I would very much appreciate it if you followed by those rules.

So until then, buh-bye everyone!


	2. Her Day

**A/N:** Hello to those who've stuck around to read what happens after chapter 1. Congratulations to all of you for being loyal. So as to repay those who are reading this fic, I'll be handing out Ratatosk and Marta party hats so that we can dig into the Ratatosk/Marta cake I baked myself along with the Ratatosk/Marta ice cream I bought from the grocery store. And later, we can go over to the Ratatosk/Marta theme park and ride the roller coaster and teacups. Woo hoo! Yeah!

…Yeah right. And now that I'm awake from my fantasy world of daydreaming, I can honestly tell you this much: 1) I'm inept in the art of cooking. So you can forget about those Ratatosk and Marta cupcakes or other baked goods of them. That's what we have moms for (unless it was my friend's mom, then you should bum off another friend's mom instead if you don't want to run the risk of food poisoning). 2) I'm a big chicken when it comes to riding a roller coaster. Sure, I can get on that one ride that raises you up very high then plummets you to the ground at an alarming rate. But for whatever reason, I can't stomach getting on any roller coaster without throwing a fit. So be prepared to get me on either one kicking and screaming cuz I don't go down without a fight. And 3) I'm truly touched that there are those willing to give this fic a try; that I wasn't lying about. So give yourselves a pat on the back because you've just made an author very happy with herself.

And I couldn't think of a better way to honor you guys then to write out the next chapter in dedication to you. So lets give a round of applause to the following that first reviewed this story:

Kalana Fox

Stormy341

CherrySamaXx3

HCRATL

So thank you again for the reviews. Now I'll humbly let you go to read the fic. Enjoy!

*On a side note, I decided to leave the image of what the school uniforms look like to the readers. The reason I say this is because sometimes we read a fic with a certain look in mind and then the author tries to describe a different look that'll either not work with our image of it or we simply can't image it from the description alone. Same with the mother. You can picture to look anyway you wish. That's the fun of imagination because you get to decide how certain things look. But if some of you want a suggestion for a school uniform in mind, I have a couple of pics on my Ratatosk x Marta x Emil album that you can look at if you want an example. I'll post the link on my profile. So go take I look at that or the other albums on my photobucket account.

* * *

**Chapter 2: Her Day**

Ever have those instances when you think you're dreaming, but then you're rudely awakened to the real world and come to see that you were actually in a form of hell that was sugar coated all this time?

Yeah, well I was. And his name is Ratatosk Castagnier a.k.a "The Jerk".

Ever since my failed attempt to enter the school on my first day and being saved by said jerk, I've been succumbed to relentless harassment and name-calling. Oh, and lets not forget the best part of it all (cue sarcastic speech): I have all my classes with him for the next NINE months and two weeks. Yes! Could I have asked for a better way to enjoy school life? (end sarcastic speech). Bleh.

…Ok. So maybe falling from a tree wasn't the best first impression (because it only works in manga, where the likelihood of the person who saves you ends up falling madly in love with you is much greater than my experience with him). And maybe fighting with the jerk, instead of thanking him and walking away from the matter, wasn't bound to get me anywhere, other than on his hit list. Or in this case, harassment list. But at least I didn't deserve the barrage of phrases like "your stupid" and "maybe your parents should have named you the Fire Cracker, small bean".

Who the heck is he calling a small bean? I most certainly am not small. I'm just shorter than most people. That's all.

Hmph.

I still remember the way he laughed it up in my face about how I couldn't reach the top of the board to write out the rest of the equation during class yesterday. I kept hopping on my tippy toes, only managing to write out a couple of numbers. The teacher, feeling bad that she put me up to the task, politely asked that I return to my seat and let someone else finish out the rest. But I couldn't help the irritation that gnawed from within, picking up on the implication that she meant to say for someone else much taller than myself to do it instead. So begrudgingly, I walked to my seat and avoided the amused gazes from my fellow classmates whom probably couldn't wait to let out a chuckle or two. I took my seat, without so much as sparing a glance to the students sitting in front, and held onto my mechanical pencil tightly as I watched Ms. Teru call out to some tall guy in the back and ask him to do the problem on the board. And as if the humiliation couldn't get any worse, I heard Ratatosk snicker from the desk closest to me as he attempted to stifle his laughter behind a fisted hand.

It was only after we left the classroom did he holler with gut-wrenching laughter at my failed attempt to do the problem. He teased me all through the day and even offered to lend me a pair of platform shoes just so that I could "see over the desk", as he put it. But I did shut him up for a while when I delivered him a painful blow to the stomach. Haha.

Justice was served and he stayed absolutely quiet during sixth period and five minutes after. The quietest fifty five minutes of my life since my meeting with him, that's for sure.

"You better hurry up and get your ass out of the house right this instance!"

I stopped brushing my hair for a few seconds, listening intently for any other noises, before pulling out a bottle of concealer from the drawer to apply more make-up to my cheek. Obviously I didn't have much time to fix my hair up nicely today. Oh well.

I heard something smash on the ground (probably a bottle or plate, considering the number of times this has happened before) and a string of curse words bounce off the walls of the bottom floor, reaching their way up to my room for me to hear. Cold chills ran up my spine when I heard this.

Now I know I had to hurry up.

So with lightening speed, I pinned two floral pins on my hair, fetched my backpack from the chair at my desk and ran down the stairs like my life depended on it, all the while contemplating what I might come across at the bottom of the house.

However, when I hit the last step, I cautiously looked to both sides, seeing no one around for the time being, and bolted down the hall towards the front door. A small smile hit my face at that moment for all I had was five feet to cross before making it to freedom. My adrenaline was running high and I could practically feel my hands shake in anticipation. Gosh, I was so close.

But that was before I saw a hand holding a beer bottle appear from the living room. I immediately halted when I saw the figure make its way in front of the door, bottle lazily swishing back and forth in her hand. My smile disappeared somewhere between the time my heart stopped from seeing the hand appear and when the person spoke to me.

"And why the hell are you leaving at this time when you know you should have left ten minutes ago? Huh?"

I tried keeping a grip on my nerves as I held onto the straps of my backpack. But it was becoming increasingly difficult as I stood there under cold, scrutinizing eyes. I had to grind my teeth together just to keep from gulping loudly. And that was hard.

"Well? Why the fuck are you even standing there?"

I didn't trust my voice at the time. But I knew that keeping silent would only make things worse. So, with much effort, I willed my mouth to say something.

"M-my alarm clock didn't go off again today. But I'm r-ready n-now."

The sloshing liquid in the bottle was a clear reminder that she'd been drinking. Hopefully, she'll let me go without a hassle.

But her face hardened as she thought about what I said, taking a swig from the bottle in her hand while taking slow strides my way.

Who am I kidding? It usually never works that way. So why bother hope for anything different this time around?

"Oh really? And I hope you don't mean to say this is my fault."

"N-no! I would never put the blame on y-"

"Shut the hell up you stupid slut!" I couldn't help but flinch at the harshness of her tone as she yelled that to me. I stood there fidgeting with my fingers as I awaited her next words, my head hung low so as not to let her see the fear she caused me. She didn't like people who were spineless and weak. And she especially didn't like those who showed fear. She HATED people who showed fear.

Her hand roughly rammed onto my chest, sending me back onto the wall and knocking over a few books from the shelf next to me. I looked up to see her staggering my way, a malicious grin playing dangerously on her lips. I yelped some when she yanked at the top of my hair and forcefully pulled my face up to hers, leering at me with that same look of hatred like every other time. Just like every other time she's hurt me.

The smell of alcohol from her breath penetrated my nostrils and burned into them like a blaze of fire. And I was truly scared for what would come next.

"Now you listen here, dumb shit. I have a guest coming over later today and I don't need your sorry ass in detention because you got to school late."

"O-of co-course."

"So don't let me catch you leaving home late again. Got it?" She took this opportunity to yank harder on my hair.

"Y-yes! I-I won't d-do it ag-again. I p-promise."

"Good. Now get the fuck out of my sight before you really ask for it." She threw me to the floor and went into the kitchen with a smug look on her face. Probably to get another bottle of beer.

I didn't waste another second as I bolted out of the house before she could change her mind. I slammed the door shut and made a mad dash down the street, eager to get out of her sight as she instructed.

I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, ignoring the stabs of pain in my joints. Once I passed a few blocks, I slowed down and hunched over a bench to calm my racing heart. I kept telling myself that this was a short break to catch my breath, nothing more. Unfortunately, it was taking longer than expected.

Darn it! I should already be accustomed to running like this after so long, not panting wildly like I was running my first marathon. What's up with that? Seriously, either I'm out of shape or my legs became too weak to endure the run.

….

Or maybe it's because she just has that effect on me. Maybe she's just able to make me scared out of my mind and manipulate me the way she wants to. Maybe she's just cruel like that.

So can you believe she's my mother?

I know. I never would have believed it myself if it weren't for the fact that I live under the same roof as her and all she ever does is beat the living daylights out of me while constantly comparing me to the dirt beneath her feet. She's definitely a far cry from the regular, nice mothers I read about or pass by on my way to school. You know, the ones that encourage you to try harder, cheer you on at your games and bake you sweets when you've had a rough day. But that's hardly the case with my mom. I'm pretty much her personal slave at home; cleaning the whole house, cooking meals for her everyday and helping her out when she passes out from drinking too much. I've done nothing but tend to her every need. So then why does she treat me this way? Have I not been a good enough daughter? Am I really the reason why our once happy family fell apart? Was my birth really a mistake?

And you know, it's not like I'm asking for much. I'm just in need of answers to explain the reasons why I'm living like this and why my own mother detests me so much. But all I ever get are more questions instead.

It stinks. But I live with it.

My wrist watch read 7:46 and it takes me at least fifteen minutes to get to school. So without another thought, other than getting to school on time, a sprinted the rest of the way with one objective in mind:

Don't make mother upset.

* * *

I managed to get to school on time. In fact, I got here with five minutes to spare. I could have cried tears of relief on the spot, but chose otherwise so as not to weird out other students with my sudden crying fit in the middle of the hall.

The day, itself, seemed to be going well so far. Well, except for the fact that…

Slam.

"Hey, Marta. So how's your morning been?"

And just when I thought I shook him off for the day, the guy comes back around to annoy me some more. Aren't I just starting off the day nicely?

I proceeded to pull out my math and science books from my locker, not turning back once to regard his presence. He stayed there nonetheless, leaning on the locker beside me (his locker, coincidentally), and kept trying to make conversation while he waited. That infamous smirk was on his face the whole time he was there since our lunch break after fourth period. And during all this time, I've effortlessly tried ignoring him every time he passed me a note during class and always kept my distance on our way to the next one. But this guy is so persistent. Despite my attempts to get away from him, he'd always be there chatting with me as though we've known each other forever. And it's only been two weeks since we've met.

"Hey, bean girl. Respond, will you?"

I tensed slightly when he said that. But I resisted the urge to walk up to him and pummel his face to the ground. Besides, I have better things to do than to give in to his insistent demands for conversation.

"It's no fun when I'm the only one talking."

Well then, he can go right ahead and talk to himself for all I care. This is payback for him laughing over my humiliation in math class the other day. Serves him right!

"Are you having a bad day? Because usually, you'd be fired up about any comment I make… or swooning over my godly good looks."

I slammed my locker door shut, books in my backpack, and gave him a deathly glare.

"Excuse me?"

"Don't act like you've never gave me the once over. I see the way your eyes admire my physique when you think I'm not looking. But I must warn you now, I've broken many girls hearts before because of my good looks. So try not to fall in love with me, kay?"

I swear, this guy was bent on ruining my mornings in the worst ways possible.

And darn him! Now I feel a heat rush coming through.

"A-And what gave you the impression that I was ch-checking you out?" NOW the idiot's got me stuttering also? What has been up with me as of late? I gotta practice more control around him if I ever want to hear the end of this.

His smirk widened when he heard me jumbling over my words, bringing his body closer to mines as a way of teasing my emotions. Perceptive jerk.

"Just a guess." he simply replied.

"S-shut up!"

"Now that's the spirit. I was wondering where all that fire had gone to. But now I can see that you were holding it in all this time."

I could feel my eyes twitching at his comment. Seriously, was he just doing all this to rile me up?

"Why don't you go b-bother someone else?"

"Why do that when I already have you?"

"Don't answer my question with another question!"

He put on a pretend frown and crossed his arms in front of him, muttering in feigned offence, "But, Marta. You know I don't like it when you yell at me. It hurts my feelings, you know?"

"Says the liar who uses his acting skills to get him out of trouble."

And just like that, his sad demeanor was gone and replaced with that ever present smirk. "Yeah. But you gotta admit I'm pretty good at it."

"Save it for someone else who'll actually fall for it."

"Oh, that's right. You fall for my looks, not my acting."

I sent a glare his way as I replied to his pervy comment. "I already told you to shut up about that."

"One of these days, you're going to wish you never said this to me."

"Keep dreaming lover boy."

"I do. And in my dreams, you totally want me."

"S-stupid pervert!" I punched him a good one in the arm. But he closed his locker like he didn't feel it. And who would when you have arms like his?

He yanked on my hand, bringing my body to walk beside his, and we walked to the cafeteria hand in hand. And while he may have been a pervy jerk not too long ago, I couldn't help the butterflies that swarmed in my stomach and the blood rushing to my face. If we weren't already walking to the cafeteria to get food, I would of chucked the nauseous feeling to eating something bad.

But I wasn't fooling anyone, including myself.

For one reason or another, I was being drawn to this guy. Even with the attitude he has, I can't help but feel comfortable in his presence and enjoy the little moments of emotion he brings out of me. The emotions I was deprived of showing in my own home.

I had a flashback to when I first laid eyes on him and how I thought he looked like an angel with his shiny blonde hair and perfectly chiseled face. But that was up until he opened that rude, potty mouth of his. And that's when I came to see how this "angel" was actually more of a devil with the appearance of an ethereal being.

He almost had me fooled there for a second. I'll give him props for that.

But even after all the harassment I had to go through with him, and the constant name calling, and the pranks when I'm not looking, and the short jokes, AND lets not forget that one time he….uh…

Now I'm just getting ahead of myself here.

But like I was trying to say, despite all that he's been a pretty good friend. His friendship has served as a great distraction from my home problems if anything.

And it's like, when I'm around him, I don't feel the dread of going back home or the beatings I recently got before coming here.

With Ratatosk by my side, I don't have to worry. I'm not really sure on how to exactly describe it, but it feels like I'm weightless; the burdens of my home life don't weigh down on me like they used to when I had no one to talk to.

So I guess having a small crush (which he doesn't have to know about) on this jerk wouldn't be so bad. After all, nothing stopped me from hanging out with him in the first place (…though, it was mostly because he wouldn't leave me from his sight).

I just want this little bit of happiness is all. Something to look forward to in the haze of hatred, when my mother isn't crushing my self esteem and physically inflicting harm on me.

Is that so wrong?

"….ta? Marta?"

Huh?

"Hello? Earth to Marta. Are you in there?"

When I came to, I saw his hand waving in front of my face and a playful smile tugging at the corner of his lips. I stood there blinking for several moments before looking around to see that we were in the lunch line.

And just how out of it had I been that I didn't even notice us entering the lunch room? Gosh, I really need to be more aware of my surroundings.

Ratatosk, being the ever playful jerk, used the hand he was waving in my face to lightly smack me over the head. I gave him a pout in return, not happy with his action.

"Oh, come on. Don't give me that face. It was for your own good."

"And how is hitting me on the head for my own good?"

"It got your attention on me, where it should be."

"Do you ever go a day without harassing me?"

"Nope."

"Hmph."

"But I also did that to warn you that we're coming close to the cashier and you had yet to fill your tray with food."

I looked down to my tray to see that it was empty.

"Oh." And just like he said, I noticed that we were in fact getting close to the cashier. So I grabbed myself a banana and ham sandwich, along with a bottle of fruit juice. He already had his tray filled with two slices of pizza, a candy bar and coke can. We got to the cashier man and I was getting ready to pull out my wallet from my pocket when Ratatosk's hand came down on it. I gave him a questioning look before he turned to the cashier and handed him a wad of money.

Huh? Did he just do what I think he just did?

"Here's your change, sir."

"Thanks."

He dropped the change in his wallet and turned to me right after. "Come on."

He tugged me along to a table at the far corner and we sat down on it with our meals. But I was still shocked for words by his latest act of kindness.

And how did I not notice we were still holding hands all that time? And why was he still holding my hand!

Ratatosk, on the other hand, didn't seem fazed by this as he took a bite of his pizza, looking ahead with an indifferent look on his face. It was as if he didn't know what he did for me. That, or he was passing it off like nothing happened.

But contrary to his belief, what he did wasn't just something of unimportance.

When I thought more about it, the more dazed my mind became. It was like I was seeing him through a new light. This tiny act, alone, changed my perspective of him.

The butterflies in my stomach were wrecking havoc on my body as they attempted to push through the thin material of skin and make themselves known to the guy sitting beside me.

It was so uncharacteristic of him, that it left me in awe. And clearly, I didn't mind if I looked like a blubbering fool in his eyes. Irrationality was becoming a fast friend in my blurring mind of golds and reds.

I vaguely caught sight of his head rearing in my direction, or of the words that escaped his mouth in those moments of silent bliss. I blame his kind gesture on my lack of response.

His face grew irritated as he held the almost diminished pizza slice in his hand, brows pointedly creasing with confusion.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"…Uh…" I absently played with a strand of hair under the table, not paying mind to the tone of his voice but to the thumping of my heart beats. I was silently praying in my head that he hadn't caught notice of the noises pounding away in my abdomen.

"Out with it." His voice sounded demanding, with a tinge of perplexed curiosity. I looked into the crimson pools, not sure how to word my thoughts. I felt speechless, but not in the way my mom makes me feel. This speechlessness felt more, in simple terms, like I was keeping secret to something far deeper than my mind was willing to let me know. A sole word voiced through the euphoria, almost forced if anything.

"….Thanks." I turned my head the other way, suddenly shy of my response. Did he honestly not have a clue as to why I was becoming increasingly flustered in his presence?

"For what?"

"….You know….for paying for my food. That was…um, the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me."

We sat there in silence, the only sounds were the bustling noises from students in the lunch room. I didn't know what was going through his head, and I didn't make an effort to find out. This was probably the most awkward we've ever been around one another, and that says a lot when taking Ratatosk's personality into account. But I didn't mind too much for the silence. It gave me some time to calm my heart rate and mull over the words I let slip.

Why couldn't I have been more prepared for stuff like this?

Is having a crush really this complicating…and gratifying all at once? Because if it is, I'm not sure if I want to let go of such a feeling, despite the many palpitations I was bound to encounter with my heart or the countless number of times I'd have to work my brain to the max to understand how to go about this new experience. But new experiences are like this, right? Besides, I don't mind the challenge.

Keep it secret, yes. But to brush it aside, no.

I tried my hardest to keep my gaze on my hair when I felt his fingers twitch in my own. But the words that came next reeled my head to the side in more surprise.

"…Your welcome." And once again, I was lost in his eyes. I was so captivated by the sincerity that shone in them, that I feared any movement on my part would ruin the illusion draping us in that moment. Even eye movement was taken with caution.

So as stupid as that sounded, I was dead serious with the actions I took in this suspended time. I wanted it to last.

I wanted this moment to last.

B-bmp. B-bmp.

A strange sense of bashfulness crept its way up as I continued staring into his irises. My hands slightly trembled and I distinctly felt a cold drop of sweat roll down the side of my face and around the rim of my left ear.

'_What am I doing? I shouldn't be staring at him like a complete idiot. In fact, what if he's thinking that of me right now? What if…he's thinking he doesn't want to be friends with someone such as myself for staring? Oh no, oh no, oh no! I-I can't do this!'_

I was in desperate need of a distraction. Anything just to side step from the intensity of his stare.

So I said the first thing that popped into mind, not thinking over the words beforehand.

"Y-your hand. It's, um…well…" I saw him look down at our joined hands and he made a face, a cross between embarrassment and shock, before swiping his away, swinging it to the other side of his body.

'_NOOOOOO! I didn't mean for that to happen!'_

"S-sorry about that."

"N-no. That's a-alright. Really." But deep in my heart, and idiotic brain, I knew it wasn't all right. It'd only been a couple of seconds since he let go of my hand and I was already missing the warmth from his. I was seriously tempted to grab it from his side and clasp it again. But I decided against it-he'd probably think I was a weirdo for doing so.

So I opted for sulking in my seat instead while Ratatosk went to the trash bin to empty his tray. I hadn't even touched my food. So I stuffed the contents into my backpack for later, so as not to appear rude for throwing it away after Ratatosk went and paid for it. And if I ever wanted to receive anymore of his rare kindness, I had to think things through while in front of him.

And maybe next time, I won't point out the obvious if he hasn't seen it. Especially if he's holding my hand! What is wrong with me! Urgh!

(insert mental, violent beatings to the head cuz I absolutely deserve it)

Ratatosk plopped down on his seat, a deep frown displayed the usual smirk. He gave me this pointed look, as though he wanted to say something but couldn't.

Where was he going with this, anyways?

…

Wait a minute. Is he…is he going to tell me not to hang out with him anymore? Did I really ruin my only chances to finally getting close to him?

(insert hysteric, mental screaming to the mix cuz now I'm freaking out!)

There's no way in heck that I'm mentally prepared for this kind of rejection. I mean, just when things were finally looking good for me too.

No. Maybe he's acting like this because I have something on my face. Yeah, that's what it is. Right?

Who am I kidding?

Even though I looked mildly confused on the outside, I was practically falling apart on the inside. This obviously wasn't going anywhere good. He really does want to end our friendship. And it's all because I decided to weird him out by my excessive staring. And yes, I'll admit that he was right about me staring. But that only happened three times, not counting now. THREE TIMES!

But that's no reason why I should be suffering this anguish. I'm a girl and he's a good-looking guy. Is it really a crime to look?

Oh, great. Now I sound creepy when I say that. Maybe I truly am messed up in the brain.

Oh, well. So long good friend and potential first crush. You will be missed.

I braved one last look at his face, accepting the inevitable to come.

But maybe I should have been watching for his hands instead.

For in that very instant, his large palm shot forward and laid flat on my chest. It all happened in slow motion and somewhere along that time my mind became a blank. If I was too shocked for words by his sudden act of kindness before, then I could consider now as me being utterly paralyzed by the hand that groped my breast. I didn't even have the right sense of mind to lift my hands from my sides and give him a good one to the face, or yell out obscenities like no tomorrow.

I was speechless to the core. So I stood there, caught in the moment of shock and being utterly mortified, his palm on my chest, and he had the nerve to suddenly blurt out the most offence remark I've ever heard.

"You're as flat as a board." he said with a straight face, acting like what he did was nothing. The heck!

Flat? FLAT! After that awkward moment in which I worried myself to death for, and he had the nerve to say I was flat chested?

I felt a nerve snap on my temple and my hands were shaking vigorously, and not because I was nervous either. So, with eye vision seeing red and making an animated target mark appear on him, I swung my good hand back and propelled it forward, hitting him roughly in the gut while shouting, "YOU PERVERT!"

His body flung back a couple of feet till he slammed into the trash bins at the corner of the building. Everyone in the lunchroom turned silent when a loud bang sounded off, only to see Ratatosk had made the noise. And seeing his body sprawled on the ground, banana peels and mashed potatoes littering his head, gave me a little bit of satisfaction. But that didn't mean it over-rid my anger towards him. I let out one final huff of indignation before stomping out of there, ignoring the whispers of the student body behind me.

I didn't even think about lunch as I stormed off to the nearest bathroom to "chill out" for a while before class.

* * *

I walked outside to the front of the school, still fuming over what happened a while ago at the lunch room. I didn't even bother waiting up for Ratatosk, who desperately tried apologizing all today and at the lockers. But I simply ignored him and left before he did. Besides, who does he think he is to make a remark on my "assets" if you will? I'm a growing girl too.

So I may not be big like a lot of the girls here. But my body IS making room for improvement. So he shouldn't open that big, pervy mouth of his if he isn't going to say anything nice. I sometimes question why I even hang out with him, despite my awareness of this little crush towards him. Heck, I can't seem to get a grasp on why he, of all the guys here, had to be the one I developed a small amount of affection for.

But being out here alone, watching all the other students make their leave, I was struck with the same fear I get every time school is over: fear. And for a second, it made me wish I waited up for him, giving me a little assurance that things weren't going to be so bad. But my stupid pride got in the way…again.

Eventually, I would have to get over my musings and walk back home to make dinner for my mom and her surprise guest. But things weren't settling well with me. I instinctively placed a hand on my stomach, feeling the all to familiar nausea at the pit and making my legs feel like jello. I opened up my backpack, pulling out the juice from earlier, and took a quick swig from the plastic bottle to sober my anxiety. I lost myself for a minute in the sweet, tangy flavor that filtered through my lungs and quenched the need for liquid from earlier when I was still fuming over the groping incident. I stood there, letting my senses take over.

But the stupid autumn wind had to breeze through and shake me from my thoughts. I was all to reminded of the fact that we were in the beginning of fall and all I had on was my school uniform and a light sweater I fished from out of my locker. I looked behind me to see if Ratatosk's head would pop through the entrance doors, but was only met with disappointment when he didn't show up. I guess I had that coming to me for always treating him so badly. But I also couldn't help it if he deserved it a lot of the times.

But I do miss his company, however. I never felt the weight of anxiety when he was near. Maybe I let myself get a little too close for comfort, being that I was so used to putting up a mask in front of everyone and making them believe I was ok when I wasn't. And it was because I didn't have anyone to hang out with that the feelings of dread from going home didn't feel as bad like now. But then I met Ratatosk and everything changed.

I let myself get too close. To him.

I heaved one last breath, and gave the doors a last glance, before I walked down the steps and got on the sidewalk going down the street. To my personal nightmare, so to say. I walked the whole way, occupying my mind with the scenery around me that consisted of passing by cars and children playing in leaf piles. But even that didn't help to diminish the fear that shook my body. I kicked a few rocks to the side and counted the many colorful trees along the way, taking note of their daily changes and how such untouched beauties survived through the harsh weather presented to them. In a way, I was like these trees; I go through my fair share of 'harsh weather' and yet I manage to stay standing through it all. I can't even bring myself to believe it. And like these trees, will I someday give way under all the pressure and slump forward like the few I passed by at the nearby cemetery? Will I, too, reach my limits like nature has?

I furiously shook my head from side to side, trying to rid myself of such thoughts. It wasn't healthy to think like this. I just have to keep walking forward with my head held higher and my stance more firmer. I…just had to.

I round of sneezes escaped my nose, each one rang louder as I tried to walk in a straight path. I inwardly hoped I wasn't coming down with anything. My mom's anger would fly off the handle if she so much as saw me blowing my nose every few seconds. She didn't like being handed the responsibility of taking care of me. And besides, sick or not, she would still have me working around the house. That never changed. I would know because she's done this to me before- dragging me out of bed to clean the house or run errands for her, while threatening me with a good beating if I slacked off around the house. Apparently, being ill isn't an excuse to get out of doing anything. But I managed all the while.

The bruise on my cheek, a 'gift' I received a couple of days before from my mother dearest, stung from the cold wind (and possibly because I was nearing my home). The walk didn't even feel like fifteen minutes. I guess time flies by quick when you have to face the inevitable.

How enjoyable.

I stole a glance at the windows from the veil of my bangs and saw the curtains flutter close in haste. She was probably worried that I wouldn't make it in time to cook dinner and went to see if I was close by. It doesn't even surprise me that she does this because I know she only checks the window to see if I'm late or not- it's never about my safety or anything mother-like in that nature.

Taking hesitant steps towards the front door, I inhaled a large breath and dug through my pockets to get out my house key. I opened the door slowly to see my mom chatting wildly with a woman her age, beer bottles littering the table top and clouds of smoke floating above their heads. When she heard the door close, my mom turned her eyes on me and placed her cigarette on the ash tray near her wrist. She tapped her index finger impatiently as I fumbled to unbutton my sweater, not daring to lift my eyes back to hers.

"You're three minutes late."

I grinded on my teeth, scared by the tone of her voice. "I'm sorry." I managed to say in a voice barely above a whisper.

"Well? What the hell are you doing standing there like an idiot? Get your ass in the kitchen and make us our dinner already."

"R-right!" I scurried to the stove and pulled out the necessary ingredients to make them some spaghetti. As I did this, I couldn't help but overhear my mom and her friend laugh it up about how stupid and lazy I was. I pushed back the tears that threatened to spill and continued to work on dinner. It was the least I could do not to further anger my mom. And she never hesitated to show me how angry she was, even in the presence of her friends (but they probably also do the same to their kids, if they had any).

I stood at the pot, stirring in the contents, and willed my mind to block out the name calling I heard from them, even if it hurt a lot to hear. I kept my focus solely on making dinner and quickly grabbing something for myself to munch on upstairs. When the spaghetti looked about ready, I pulled out two bowls and scooped the pasta into them. I put two cups of water on the table and waited by my mom's side to see if she needed anything else before I took off to my room. She gave the bowl a hard stare before looking up at me, her eyes narrowed in that same fashion when she feels the need to hit me. It caused me to take a step back. But she was quicker, roughly grabbing on my shoulder and flinging my body to the fridge. I brought a hand to my shoulder to rub at the sore spot while she closed in on me, spaghetti bowl in hand.

"What the FUCK is this?" she demanded, pointing an offending finger at the pasta.

"I-it's s-spaghetti."

"And did I tell you we wanted this for dinner?"

I averted my gaze between her face and the shaking fist beside her hip. "N-no. But, you never t-told me you w-wanted anything specific."

She flung the bowl to the other side of the kitchen, stomping towards my shaking figure while her friend shouted encouraging words to her to "give it to me good" and stuff like that. I cowardly placed my hands in front of me in a defense position, pleading with her to not hit me.

"P-please, mom! I'm sorry! Please d-don't hurt me!" She swung at my head repeatedly and somewhere along the way I ended up on the floor.

I don't remember much else. Because right after receiving a couple of blows to the head, my vision became blurry and soon I was lost in the world of sleep.

* * *

**A/N:** So what did you guys think of this chapter? I would very much like to hear your thoughts on this and how it's coming along so far. Until then, I'm going to get my butt in gear for more studying. Woo hoo (I'm saying this with a sarcastic look on my face, by the way).

Anyways, leave me a review please cuz I worked hard to make this longer. So the least you can do is make this writer happy by giving her feedback on her work. Thanks!


	3. Life Is A Bore Without You

**A/N:** Man, that was some chapter in the last one. And a lot of you have been wondering what'd happen afterwards. And guess what? Today is your lucky day because I've finally finished chapter 3 and have it published right here for your viewing pleasure. So enjoy this one and let me know how I did at the end. Thanks!

"Regular talk"

'_Mental dialogue'_

"**Previously said dialogue"**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 3: Life Is A Bore Without You**

Either I was having a dream or I really was eating a dust bunny. Hm…weird. I opened my eyes and came face to face with a ball of dust near my mouth, rolling back and forth from the breathing I was doing. And when my vision became clearer, I saw the kitchen entrance and sunlight beaming through the curtains behind me. This meant that the beating wasn't a figment of my imagination, rather it actually happened at what assume was the evening before.

'_That explains the dust in my mouth. Not to mention, why my supposed 'bed' felt so cold.'_ I tried to lift my body from the ground, but immediately halted my actions when I felt a painful shock course through my head and back. Funny, because I don't remember my mother beating me anywhere else than on the head.

But she probably did that when I was unconscious. By this point, I wouldn't put it passed her to do such things anymore. I just wished that she found a different outlet for her anger…

I tried to move my left arm from under the side of my body again. And once again, I was reduced to crying in pain on the floor. My whole upper body felt sore and I vaguely noticed several cuts marring my hand (the one that wasn't numb and still under the side of my body). My legs were bent in so I could see a couple bruises forming there also. They, too, felt like someone came and threw a car on top of them. But they were on my thighs, so I could get away with pulling my gym shorts lower to conceal them. As for my hand, I can say that I fell on the concrete floor and scraped them. That wasn't going to be an issue.

But what I was mostly worried about was how I was going to get off this floor and pretend that it didn't hurt to move my body in front of people at school.

Oh no! What time is it?

With all my might, I quickly yanked my left arm towards my face (all the while, suppressing a yelp by grinding my teeth together) and read the numbers 2:55 p.m. on it. At that moment, I think the house dropped to negative thirty degrees and time seemed to stop for a second. I couldn't stop the all to familiar shakes from wrecking havoc on my body.

'_Oh no, no, no, no! No! This can't be happening. I couldn't have possibly missed a day of school. Now mo-'_

My breath hitched when, all of a sudden, I heard a floor board creaking in the house. I laid still, stopping my breathing in the process to hear for anymore noises. It was deathly quiet. So I slowly tried to move my body from the ground again when I heard another creaking sound, only it sounded closer this time. It was getting harder to stop my body from shaking as time ticked away. I craned my head towards the staircase and saw no one there.

_Creak._

There it was again. Now I was getting really paranoid, flicking my eyes between the stairs and the kitchen (I couldn't see behind me or to my left where the living room was at because of the pain) and still seeing nothing. I kept straining my ears to hear for anything else. The house was quiet again and stayed that way for at least three minutes, all that time I was trying to keep my body still and the tears at bay. My body was already anticipating the inevitable beatings, so it seems. But I had to be smart about this if I was going to get through the day less harmed than usual.

_Creak. Creak. Creak._

I heard the rapid pacing of footsteps upstairs. And pretty soon, they were sounding off from the stairs.

'_Oh please, please, please just let me die here now. Daddy, please take me away from all of this. I promise I'll be a good girl. So please help me!'_

"Don' tew me that buh-bitch is still hew…hic…" she muttered to herself as she was descending those steps. I kept my face down, letting my bands cover my eyes, and waiting in terror to see what she'd do because there was no point in struggling to flee to the front door at this point. I long lost my chance for temporary freedom.

So the best I could do was pretending to still being unconscious.

That was how my mother found me when she got to the hall, lying on the ground in a heap of tattered clothes and messy hair while unconscious on the ground. I heard her snicker a few times, her body a couple of feet from my own (and boy was I grateful for that). But then I heard the floor boards creaking again and it didn't take long before she had her body hovering over mine, the smell of alcohol strong in my nostrils. Now I can honestly say I was scared senselessly. But I kept my façade up.

"The hell wit uo. Goin' waste time sweeping on muh floor? Dirty slut!" She spit in my hair, distaste in her voice as she said it. But I could care less. As long as she didn't beat on me, that is.

"Still sweeping, huh? Well, we hafta fix that." She delivered a hard kick to my back, sending me on a crash course to the wall. But I bit back a yell and kept at my act. But, oh, how hard it was just to do that. I just hope I don't become crippled from all of this.

"Bitch, wake uuup!" She gave me another kick, but to the stomach. That one hurt a lot. But I wasn't about to give myself away. I clenched my eyes tighter when she proceeded to kick my stomach again, again and again. Good thing my bangs were covering my eyes. Otherwise, she definitely would have seen that I had been awake all this time.

She kicked my stomach harder when she saw that I wasn't waking. I nearly threw up a couple of times during all this. I was beginning to see white flashes behind my eyelids, almost blinding me on the spot.

'_Come on, Marta. You just have to keep this up for a little longer. Just a little bit more and she'll finally leave you alone. She will. She really will.'_

Though, I was beginning to doubt that when my mother didn't show any signs of stopping. She would just increase how hard she hit after each kick. I didn't think I was going to last very long.

I also felt my consciousness fading slowly as I endured the constant beating. To my luck, she stopped kicking me and just stood there (glaring at me, I assumed). But without warning, she yanked on my hair and dragged me to the kitchen. I felt pieces of glass cutting my face and some sticking to my arm. Tears were free-flowing down my cheeks and smearing the blood on my face (I would know because I suddenly tasted the rusty material on my lips). She hoisted my body to lean over the sink, to my surprise, and turned the faucet on cold water. I didn't know what she had planned as she put the plug on the hole and filled it to the rim with water. I squinted my eyes to see my bloody reflection on the water and a sinister look on my mother's, but she didn't notice the fear on my face or how my tears were creating ripples in the water.

Sad thing is, she probably would have enjoyed it if she did.

When she got done with filling up the sink, she turned the faucet off and let the last droplets fall from the nozzle. It was an agonizingly slow tempo, drop after drop falling into the water and distorting my scared image. I nearly lost it when the last water drop fell in the sink and sank with the rest.

After that, I just waited with tense nerves for her next course of action. But she didn't do anything. Nothing at all. She just stood there, with her hand fisting my hair, propping my body over the sink. She hiccupped twice and snorted once. But that was just about it.

The rooster clock on the wall (a gift from one of her drinking buddies) ticked away, filling the void of silence that wrapped around us. The distant sound of cars driving down the street was heard from the window above me. But as soon as they came, they left after. The ticking clock was the only sound in the house again. This only added to my anxiety.

I didn't even trust myself to breath loudly, regulating my breathing to low, inaudible wisps through my nostrils. It was hard. But I had to do it. I tried picturing myself in a field of flowers and running through them without a care in the world. I had a little black dog with blue streaks run along side me, trying to paw at the butterflies above him. My dad, sitting at a river bank with his arm around my smiling mother, was waving at me. Even Ratatosk was there, sitting under a tree with a book on his lap and his voice calling out my name. I run to him and hug him tightly, he the same. Everyone is happy and joyously laughing together. It was a beautiful illusion that had me almost believing it was real.

…Almost.

But then I felt a sadness wash over me when I realized that such a thing would never happen. My dad would never be there for me, my mom would always hate me and Ratatosk would always just be a distant friend that I'd have to let go of eventually. I wasn't meant for happiness. I just wasn't.

Drip.

I didn't notice the stray tear that rolled down my face until I saw it splash on the watery surface. I think my eyes grew the size of saucers as I watched the ripple effect. I sucked in a large breath.

'_Oh no…'_

My mother's hold on my hair tightened and I didn't get to blink back the rest of the tears before she submerged my face in the water, pushing down with all the strength she had. I vigorously shook my head and tried to get a hold of the sink with my hands, but they were pressed to the cabinets below me (she was pushing hard on my body to keep it kneeled over). I kept struggling to get my head up and squirming my body so as to loosen her grip on it. But as it stands, she was much stronger than I was even if she was drunk.

Holding in my breath became a challenge as I struggled to keep from drowning. My scalp hurt a ton as I swished my head back and forth, her grip tightening to keep me down. I couldn't see too well because the water was tainted a red hue. But I most certainly heard my mother's laughter echo in the water. It broke my heart to hear it, even if this wasn't the first time she's laughed at my suffering.

And this wouldn't be the last.

My vision was blurring considerably and I fought desperately to keep consciousness. But it was proving futile with each thrust of my head and jerk of her hand.

It hurt too much to try. Now I was begging for sleep to come. At least that way, I wouldn't feel the emotional and physical pain brought on by my own mother. I could safely drift away into the realms of sleep and dream of a life much happier than this, like the one I imagined not too long ago.

But I guess my mom wasn't hoping for that. Because not longer after, she yanked my head out of the sink and threw my body on the ground. I was coughing water out of my mouth and clutching my stomach in pain. I heard her walking closer to me. She knelt down and caressed my face in the motherly tenderness she used when I was younger.

"I wan uo to cween tis mess now. Or else. Gowt it?" I nodded slowly and she got up to leave to her room downstairs, muttering curses my way. But it didn't bother much as I struggled to breath again. I was heaving hard, feeling the bile rise to my throat and swallowing it down to prevent myself from dirtying the floor anymore.

After a minute or two of labored breathing, I composed myself (harder than it sounds) and lifted my upper body. I gripped on the sink and used that as leverage to lift myself to a standing position, wobbling at first and then straightening up. My body ached all over and it would probably take two days before I can play it off differently at school. Until then, I willed my staggering body to walk to the pantry and took out the mop to wipe the water off the floor. I slid the mop side to side because it was easier on my body than pushing it back and forth with any kind of strength and eliciting another round of pain. My arms felt sluggish, same with my legs, but I managed to keep my balance and mop up the water on the floor (and the streaks of blood smeared in long lines).

I put the mop away when I was done and struggled my way up the stairs, sliding my body across the wall due to the fact that I couldn't properly stand straight. I kept a firm grip on the railing when I felt myself losing strength to my already weakened legs. Dragging my body the rest of the way up was torture in of itself. But geez! I must be a pretty strong person to have the strength to hoist my beaten body up and walk up stairs, and still have left over stamina to dress myself. But I guess years of the same routine does that to a person.

I made a mental note to go to the main office tomorrow to ask about getting another uniform ordered. The one I had on was too ripped up to wear to school. And I'm probably going to get scolded by my teachers for this (definitely not looking forward to that). I also know of a certain someone who's going to be asking about it too…

The guy just had to be nosy, didn't he? I mean, really! But I'll deal with him tomorrow, when my body is feeling a little better and it doesn't hurt as much to inflict a punch to his arm without feeling it myself.

"Ouch." It's been some time since I've had to wiggle my arms into a shirt while suffering an immense pain from it. I think I'll just stick to a tank top, shorts and blanket to keep me warm. At least then I don't have to stifle my cries when I loop an arm through the sleeve of my shirt. It's more painful than necessary. So it's better to forgo the trouble of putting on a shirt like that and just getting into something less difficult.

I felt a slight draft hitting my face as I sat on my bed, huddled in my thick covers. I looked to my right and saw that my window was cracked open. I don't remember- ohhh…

I should have known that my mother did this. She was, after all, upstairs during my 'nap' in the hall. She has no reason for being up here, other than having the urge to beat me up (but that's a different story all together).

I closed my window and pulled the curtain in to give me some privacy. I clutched the blanket closer to my body as I made the small trek to my bed. I had locked the door beforehand, so as not to go into a heart attack from my mother suddenly barging in. the only risk I was putting myself in was that she would beat me harder if she noticed the door locked (she always wanted access to every room regardless of the excuse, to which none ever worked). But she already had her fun. Besides, she's probably drinking in her room or passed out on the living room couch. And if I hear her walking upstairs, I'll just run to the door and unlock it. Easy peasy.

What risk was I running with that?

* * *

I spoke too soon. I didn't know when it happened or how long it happened for. But I suddenly awoke to the sound of my mom roughly banging on my bedroom door. I immediately crawled under the bed (ignoring the tremendous pain for a moment of security), gripping tightly to my blanket, and waited for her to go downstairs. The banging got louder as I cowered on the floor.

"OPEN THIS FUCKIN' DOOR!"

My body instinctively flinched. The shakes returned and it was only a matter of time before she barged through the door and had her way with me.

"BITCH! I SAID OPEN THE DOOR!"

I brought the blanket around my ears to block out my mother's angry voice and vigorously chanted in my head words of comfort. My sides burned like searing, hot water, but it helped to lay in a fetal position so that it didn't hurt as much. I just hope my mom wasn't eager for a fight because I don't think I have the strength to even stand right now. It took all I had to just crouch and crawl under the bed. So imagine standing and enduring another round of beating? I don't think so.

"IF YOU DON'T OPEN THIS DOOR IN THE NEXT FIVE SECONDS, I'M GOING TO KNOCK IT DOWN MYSELF AND KICK YOUR ASS TILL YOU'RE BLEEDING!" Another bang to the door, and then…silence. I thought, maybe, she'd left to go drink. But then I heard her voice penetrate through the door, sounding low and dangerous.

"One."

Oh no. She really meant what she said. But I thought it was a bluff!

"Two."

Should I open it? I mean, it's evident that she'll go through with her plan. But was it really worth the risk?

"Three."

I was hyperventilating, like really badly. So I stuffed the ends of my blanket in my mouth to keep myself under control, only to fail miserably when I struggled even more to breathe properly. Obviously, the blanket method wasn't working. Oh, god. I don't know what to do!

"Four"

This is it. I can get what may possibly be the worst beating of my life or I can open the door and beg her for forgiveness. But do I want to open the door? Should I open the door?

"Five."

I quickly scrambled to my feet and launched my body towards the door, nearly yanking it off its hinges when I opened it wide. Her eyes were narrowed and red with anger (and from drinking again). She had a belt looked over her right arm, the light from my room creating a glint on the brass parts to make it more intimidating. I didn't know what she had in mind, but I knew it had something to do with that black leather belt…

I clutched her legs in a pathetic manner, trying to earn her sympathy and a hold on my swaying emotions. The tears came in large floods and in a matter of seconds I was choking on my own saliva. I was really afraid. Really afraid. Even my vision was swimming thanks to my fear. But she looked down on me with that same expression of hatred.

"I-I'm so sorry! I'm so very sorry, mother! I promise I'll never do this again! I'll be a good girl from now on and I'll try really hard not to get on your nerves. I'll even make sure that you have the right dinner everyday. I won't disappoint you and make you mad at me. I promise!"

She didn't speak at all. This made me very scared because she was always more scarier when she was silent. I didn't know what she was capable of when she didn't yell out what she planned to do. And I was still freaking out over what she may have brought the belt with her for.

"Please. You have to believe me! Please mother! Please!"

"Don't you fuckin' kid me around." She paused for a second, looking me up and down from my crouched position on the floor with my hands tightly grasping onto her legs. The corners of her lips tugged upward from the sight. "Hahaha. You look so damn pathetic, on your knees and begging." She grabbed my hair and pulled it up. She kneeled to my level and glared at me with a smirk on her face, just like all the other times. "But that's not gonna save you. So you can quit your bitchin'."

"I'm sorry, mom." I said, barely above a whisper. I felt too scared to speak up and decided to keep my eyes closed so that she didn't see what she'd done to me.

She gripped my hair tighter and I could feel her breath hitting my face, prickling it on the spot. "Are you scared?" She sounded more sinisterly humored than anything. I didn't say anything, so she pulled my hair again.

"Unh!" My nose was running a lot by this point, my eyes stung and I was choking on my sobs. But it was the least of my worries.

"I saaaaaid. Are. You. Scared?" I heard the belt jingle, alerting me that she was pulling it off her arm. I swiftly swished my head side to side till I could feel my brain sloshing inside my head and my scalp burn. I didn't want her to hit me at all.

She right away pinned me to the ground, using my hair, and I opened my eyes quickly to see her kneeling down and roughly pressing her knee on my chest. I felt winded by the impact. "Well, then. Lets see how you do now!" The leather slapped on my arm, causing me to cry out. She did it again and it hit my side. She swung wildly, hitting every possible patch of visible skin. Made me regret putting on the tank top. And the shorts.

"You're a little bitch. You know that?" She gave me a slap to the cheek. "A real piece of work. Completely worthless." Another slap of the leather against my legs. "This is why our family is broken up. It's all your damn fault!"

"Mo- Ah!" The belt connected with my face, a horrible sting replacing the wet trail of tears there before.

"You don't deserve to be happy! Not after all I've had to go through!" I cried harder, knowing that what she was saying was true. I felt truly empty with those words.

She gave the belt another go at my reddening legs, tears coming from her own wide eyes. She looked hysterical. "It's your fault I'm miserable! It's your fault! It's your fault! IT'S YOUR FAULT!"

She swung the belt on my back several times then moved to my arms, which were covering my tear stained face. I was lost in her words, the raw pain inflicted on my body long forgotten. I cried myself senselessly through the whole ordeal, not caring if it made her angrier or not. She already succumbed herself to the anger and memories that will never be again. So I don't think it mattered much if I was crying like a coward.

From there, I was continuously hit with the belt for a long period of time. Probably for an hour or so. It was all a blur, so I don't remember much.

Going to bed that night, though, was even more painful. But at least it was the belt…and not the knife this time around.

But it didn't ease my breaking heart in the very least.

* * *

After four days of non-stop beatings and hours of nursing numerous wounds on my body, I was thrilled for the coming of school again. It's Monday and I couldn't have been happier, even if it meant dealing with Ratatosk and his jerkish comments. But I'd take that any day over the four days with my mother. Or any days with her, for that matter.

I looked towards the nightstand where my tattered school uniform was. I don't know how things are going to go at school, but I can be sure that it's not going to run smoothly. I ruined my school uniform not even a month into school. I don't see them being happy about that.

So I opted for wearing a plain white t-shirt and denim jeans with white, ballet flats. I put my hair in a ponytail (I put enough make-up on my face to cover the cuts and bruising) and pinned a single flower pin over the hair tie. I grabbed a red sweater and my backpack. I shoved my uniform inside the backpack and slung it over my back. It hurt a lot to have something around my shoulders. But I brushed the feeling aside and wearily, and as quietly as I could, walked down the stairs. And as always, I looked both ways when I made it down to the last step.

'_Good. Looks like she's not around.'_ I sped down the hall, putting as much effort into thrusting my body forward. For a short distance, it felt like an eternity to get to the door. I heard her bedroom door open with a creak. It made me feel more compelled to get to the door.

"Marta!"

I didn't stop running. I just kept going, swinging the door open with urgency and pushed myself out.

"MARTA!" she yelled after me. But I didn't bother look back as I made my way to school. I got a few stares from neighbors who saw my mom angrily yell my name from the front door. But I ignored them and continued running like my life depended on it.

I could feel the burn escalating down my thighs and resting on the heel of my feet. My arms felt the same way and I'm pretty sure I'd scream loudly if Ratatosk ever decided to slap my back, even if it was a slight of pats.

I tried pushing myself to run against the pain because I sure as heck didn't want to get there late. But with each mile I ran, the more worn down I felt. I wanted so madly to stop and rest a while on a bench. And it didn't help that my legs were slowing down and all the benches at the bus stops were 'coincidently' empty. But I continued to push my body to the limit.

I just had to. For my sake.

So I painfully ran the rest of the way to school, hoping to every god out there that I didn't get there late. And before I knew it, I saw the front of the school building and several kids making their way inside. Despite the utter pain I was feeling, I was glad that I made it on time. I ran through the double doors and rushed towards the main office.

I saw the same woman from my first day at the front desk. She was on the phone with someone, so I took a seat in the lobby and waited for her to finish. Besides, it gave me the opportunity to rest my body from the rigorous running. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, relaxing in the moment. I felt my head swimming with memories of when my mother broke down and yelled those hurtful words to me. I felt a migraine coming on just from thinking about it.

'_I didn't need to be told that everything bad in our lives is my fault. I…was already aware of that since the beginning.'_

I heard the secretary hang up the phone. Opening both my eyes, I saw her look my way with that same, caring smile from before.

"Oh, hey. So if it isn't Marta Lualdi. And what can I do for you today?"

As I was walking up to the desk, I was taken back by what she said. "How do you remember my name?"

"You struck me as interesting." was all she said.

"Interesting?" How can I be interesting? If anything, I'm the plainest person on the planet. Certainly nothing interesting about me.

"Yeah, interesting. I don't know what it is, but I have a feeling that you're a really interesting person to know. That's why I bothered to remember your name."

"Oh…" I could feel my face heat up. This is really embarrassing!

"You're so modest, it's cute."

"W-Wha!"

"Hahah. Sorry about that." I was too embarrassed to keep eye contact with this woman. I mean, it's rare that I get such complements. Usually, I was called the various 'colorful' words that my mother uses or names that Ratatosk nicknames me.

"I promise I won't tease you anymore. So what did you need?"

"Um…well…I-I need to talk to someone about getting a new uniform?"

She stared me straight in the eye for a good minute, as though in disbelief of what she heard me say. Her head cradled on her fisted hands under her chin, she suddenly started to laugh again. Again!

"Really? Hahahah! What happened? Your dog ate your uniform?"

"N-No! I-I just need a n-new one!"

"Haha…sorry again. Ok, I won't ask. I'll get someone in the office to help you out. Just take a seat there and I'll let you know when someone is available."

"T-thanks, um…"

"Kate."

"Ok…Kate." I walked back to my seat with my head down. I heard her trying to stifle a laugh from behind, but stop and look all innocent when I turned around to sit. I leaned my head back on the wall and tried to forget the way Kate made me flustered. I could feel her gaze on me, probably with a smile on her face. What was it with people trying to get under my skin?

Three minutes later, I heard Kate call my name and direct me to an office where this woman was seated behind a computer.

As expected, I got a good lecture for it. The woman was angry that I damaged it so quickly and told me how it's unacceptable to be walking around school grounds in regular clothing, saying that it could set a bad influence for others to follow. But luckily the woman felt for me (I told her a group of people tried mugging me and attacked me ruthlessly when I didn't comply) and decided to let me off easy, saying that the new uniform will be ready for pick-up tomorrow morning. I exited the room and Kate bid me farewell and told be to stop by again to chat.

I'll admit, she wasn't so bad. She was a nice enough person, when she wasn't teasing me. At least she didn't make me feel worthless or unwanted. What's there not to like? So maybe I will come by just to talk to her.

I'll need someone to vent with when Ratatosk gets on my bad side (which is pretty much all the time).

I tucked the pass I got from Kate in my pocket and walked towards my locker. The halls were clear, indicating that everyone was in class. This also meant that I was late to first period, and my teacher for that class is strict. In other words, she doesn't take tardiness very lightly. Good thing I have the pass from Kate or I'd be toast.

I finally got to my locker, entered in the combination and popped open the locker door. I saw my history, math, science and english textbooks propped up neatly inside and a single mirror glued to the back of the locker door. I pulled out my history and English books and proceeded to close up my locker.

"And where the hell have you been?"

"Ah!" I think I jumped a good two feet in the air when Ratatosk suddenly sneaked up behind me. I certainly wasn't expecting that, putting a hand to my heart and trying to get past my short of breath situation.

"Hahaha! Oh, this is hilarious."

I turned back to him, still struggling to breath normally but angered all the same. "Do you have to sneak up behind me?"

"I didn't quote on quote 'sneak up behind you' like you say." He even used air quotes to make his point. "You were just so immersed in your la la land to notice that I was behind you."

"Jerk."

He leaned the right side of his body on the lockers, arms crossed, indifferent look in place, and gazed at me with seriousness in his eyes. I just stood there, confused by the change in mood. Usually, he's cocky and ready for name-calling. But now, he cut it short and was staring at me like he did when he caught me as I fell from the tree.

"So? Where were you on thursday and friday?"

I wasn't sure if he was angry or just plain curious. He was making it hard to tell with his look. And to be very blunt, I wasn't sure what to make of this Ratatosk. He was being oddly serious (something that Ratatosk isn't whenever I'm around him) and the question he was asking me…why did he sound so concerned?

….Was he possibly worried about me?

"Well?"

I was shaken from my thoughts when I heard him speak out again. I could feel his ruby reds boring into my crystal blues. I felt exposed, but strangely flattered by his gaze. I'm still not sure what his look even means. But I guess I didn't mind it so much.

"Oh! Well…m-my mom got one of her crazy ideas to go on a mother-daughter trip and dragged me off to see the sights. It took a little longer than expected and that's why I was gone for two days. Yeah, that's what it was. Heheh…"

"Hmm…" I got really nervous from the look he was giving me. It appeared like he wasn't convinced in the least. He walked closer to me and bent his head so that he was at eye level with my own.

I think I literally stopped breathing there for a sec.

"Are you sure?"

"Y-yeah." I could hear my heart beating like crazy against my rib cage. Is it possible that he could hear it? Did he know that this close proximity was messing with my cardiac health?

I really, really, really, hope he can't hear my heart pounding away! That would be so embarrassing. I don't think I could live it down if he brought it to attention.

And did he have to be so close to my face?

Ratatosk, on the other hand, didn't seem fazed by it in the least. He kept staring at me, and staring, and staring, and staring…

And out of the blue, he wrapped an arm around my face and started walking. The strong aroma of cologne invaded my system. It smelled REALLY nice on him…

'_Wait! I shouldn't be thinking that. That sounds creepy!'_

I pushed myself from under his arm and backed away to the side, trying to hold a serious look. But I just didn't have it in me.

He gave me this cute, perplexed look. And it made me feel giddy and bashful inside.

"W-why did you ask about m-me anyways?"

"Huh?"

I bowed my head, unable to keep eye contact with him. I felt my cheeks heat up, something I didn't want him to see.

Stupid hormones!

"W-well, you asked me where I was. But why?"

He reached his arm out and ruffled my hair at the top. "Because life is a bore without you."

I couldn't help the way my eyes widened in wonder and I didn't care if he saw. I was just too awestruck by his words to care.

"Now if you're done gawking, we should get a move on." He turned around and began walking towards history class. I just stood there like in idiot, thinking his words over in my head.

"**Because life is a bore without you."**

I'm not a bore?

I'm fairly exciting to have around?

I'm important to be in his life?

Does this mean…he likes me a little?

"Hey!" Ratatosk called from behind his shoulder. "Are you coming or not?"

"Y-yeah!" I sprinted the distance till I was walking beside him. We walked at a normal rate, not saying anything else along the way. I discreetly moved my eyes to the left. Ratatosk had that ever-present smirk on his face, an aura of confidence and cockiness and walked like he owned the halls.

But something seemed different.

I couldn't put my finger on it. It reminded me of the time he paid for my lunch without any protest and how he held my hand so comfortably. It was different. But a good different. Maybe he's getting used to having me around? Or maybe he sees me as a really good friend.

"**It's your fault I'm miserable!"**

"**Because life is a bore without you."**

My mom may be right about me ruining our once tight knit family. And sure, she's said countless times again and again that I'm destined to cause misery to others and no one would ever want me in their life. She may have a point there also. But she was wrong about one thing.

There is someone in this life that needs me around.

I don't know what this life has in store for me and Ratatosk. We may end up as friends for years to come or to the end of this year. But no matter what happens, I'm just glad to know that I have him in my life.

He's the reason for my smiles. And that's enough for me.

* * *

**A/N:** Aww! Now isn't that just sweet? I love to put little moments of fluff like that.

This should hopefully make up for the long wait. So please leave me a comment because it really makes my day. ^w^


	4. Getting A Little Closer

**A/N:** Finally! It's been a grueling month (and I MEAN a grueling month), but I managed to finish this chapter for your viewing pleasure. I'm very much proud, and surprised, of myself. So hopefully, this will make up for the long wait I put you guys (and gals) through. Read it and let me know how I did. Thanks!

"Regular dialogue"

'_Mental thoughts'_

"**Dialogue said by another"**

Flashback

* * *

**Chapter 4: Getting A Little Closer**

"Daddy! Daddy!" A little girl, around five years old, runs up to a man sitting at a riverbank.

The man envelopes the girl in a massive bear hug, swinging her around in happiness. She squeals gleefully as he does so.

"Daddy! I'm getting dizzy!" Despite what she says, the girl is still giggling and waving her arms about.

"Oh really?" the man says with a mischievous tone. "Then I guess I just have to…SWING YOU FASTER!" He spins around faster and elicits more laughter from the child in his arms.

"Hahahah!"

After a minute of spinning them around, the man gently sets the child down on the lush, green grass. She peers through her brunette bangs to peer up at the man with curiosity, twin pigtails swishing back and forth on her shoulders. 

"What's the matter, daddy? Did you get tired of spinning?"

"Something like that…" he tells her. 

There's something about his smile that seems fake, plastered on for convenience. The girl isn't sure what to make of his smile. And the way he responded to her felt…grim. An aching feeling tugs at her heart. She walks up to his legs to grasp the tan fabric of his pants in her tiny hands. She looks up at him again, unsure of what to say next.

"Daddy?"

He kneels down to her level and pats her head affectionately. For some reason, it makes her want to cry.

"You know,,,that daddy loves you, right?" He has on a smile that doesn't reach his ears. And his eyes don't speak of happiness, slanted downward and glazed over from a pain she can't see.

"Of course I do." she says quietly, holding a look of hurt and confusion on her face. "And I love you a lot, daddy."

He caresses her cheeks and lets his hand linger on her skin a little longer. She can't help but flinch from the cold that penetrates her skin.

His touch was frigid.

"Marta. I'm letting you know that daddy has to go now." He doesn't bother to hide the frown that works its way on his features.

"Go?" She doesn't like where this is going.

"Yes, Marta. Daddy has to leave you."

"But why?" Tears begin to pool at the corners of her eyes. The man sees this and runs a finger under each, letting the liquid drops trail down his finger instead.

"Why do you want to leave me!" she wails loudly. "Did I do something wrong? Was I not a good enough girl?" More tears form and gush out like a river.

"No, no, no. Of course you've been a good girl. And you've done nothing wrong." He stands up straight, looking at her in sadness. "But I have to go now."

"Daddy?"

"Good bye, Marta." He turns around and starts to walk away. Her eyes widen in alarm and she goes into a dash to catch up to his retreating figure.

"Daddy! Daddy!" she yells for him, an outstretched hand desperately tries to reach out for him. "Daddy, please!"

The sky turns grey and a piercing, cold wind violently hits her frail body. But she continues to run after her dad.

"Daddy! Dadd-ah!" She trips over a rock and falls face first into the grass. Her father disappears into the grey distance, leaving her alone and reduced to tears. She looks on in hopelessness.

Her hand reaches out, shaking from the many emotions that wrack her body.

"D-Daddy. Please…please don't leave me."

* * *

Tweet, tweet. Tweet, tweet.

"Hm?"

The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was the sun streaming through my window. I heard the birds chirping outside and cars driving through the neighborhood.

I just laid there on my bed, recalling the dream I experienced moments before. It was a dream I've had many times during the years since my father's leave. You'd think after all this time that I'd have gotten used to it. But with the brush of my fingers under my left eye, I was convinced that the hurt was too deep rooted to get over so quickly.

I slowly rose from my bed and pulled the covers back. I took a second to examine my hands…my empty hands that once held my dad's calloused ones. I shook my head of those fleeting thoughts and went into the bathroom to get ready.

School waits for no one. And apparently, nor does my mom.

I grabbed my toothbrush from inside the pink cup next to the sink and slathered a bit of toothpaste on it. I could feel the gooey paste work its magic as I no longer smelled (and tasted) the after effects of morning breath. I did this for a minute before leaning my head over the sink and depositing the substance inside. I opened the faucet and filled my open palm with some water and stuffed it into my mouth to wash out the excess paste. Afterwards, I squeezed some face wash on my hands and scrubbed my skin clean with it.

It seemed that washing my face made the bruises glow brighter and appear more visible on my face. I couldn't help but run my hands across the patches of green and purple. Some were healing faster than others. But as long as they're less noticeable, than I don't have to worry so much about them being discovered by anyone. And besides, a little make-up helps with this.

Unlike all the other girls at school, I never was much of fan of the stuff. I thought natural beauty was the way to go. But that was before I had a reason for using it.

"Your ass better be up and getting ready!"

Ah, speaking of my reason…

"I mean it!"

I opened a drawer under the sink and rummaged through all the stuff for my make-up kit. When I found the compact, I hurriedly opened the lid and brushed the foam pad across the bruises until they weren't visible anymore. I threw the black compact back inside and made a dash for my closet. In fifteen seconds flat, I had on my school uniform and two flower pins adorning either side of my head. I grabbed my backpack, slung it over my shoulder, and made my way down the stairs (in the usual fashion, of course).

The coast was clear. So I ran down the hall to the door. That was when my mother emerged from the living room with an unopened can of bear in her hand. I immediately stopped in my tracks.

"You're surprisingly early for school today, huh?"

"Y-Yes!" I hope she doesn't hit me as hard today. We're supposed to run the mile today in P.E.

"Why the change? You fucking a guy in school?"

"N-No! I-I would never d-do that kind of stuff."

She grabbed me by my hair and shoved my against the wall. Hard.

"Don't you lie to me, you little bitch. I know you're fucking a couple of dicks there for some attention." She spat in my face as she said all this.

I clenched my eyes shut tightly and turned my head to the side. "No. P-Please let me go." I felt myself shrinking under her, my voice getting lower as she towered over me in her usual intimidating self.

She pulled my head forward before slamming it back against the wall. "You better look me in the eye when I talk to you. Do you know how fuckin' disrespectful that is when you turn your spoiled ass head away?"

"Y-Yes." I looked her square in the eyes like she told me to. They were narrowed and red all over. She must have been drinking not too long ago. But then again, when is she ever not drinking?

"And don't you fuckin' go get pregnant now. You hear?"

"I-I won't."

"I don't want to be taking care of your ass forever. You're so damn lucky I even let you live here. Otherwise, you ass would be in the streets right now."

"O-Of course."

She threw me to the side, my body colliding with the table that had a vase on it. The vase broke and shattered all around my head.

"And what the fuck are you still doing here? Get your ass to school! And you better have this mess cleaned up when you get back!" She walked back to her room and slammed the door shut.

My shoulder and head hurt tremendously. But I guess I got off easy today, since I wasn't sporting a new patch of bruises on my back or anything. I rose from the floor and ran out of the front door to get to school.

I ran all the way up to the nearest park that was five minutes away and knelt down behind a bush. I opened my spare compact to examine my face for any evidence of this morning. I saw that some of the water from the vase smeared the make-up on my left side. So I quickly fixed the problem, threw the compact in my backpack and ran towards the school.

My mornings were as usual.

* * *

"Ok class. Today we're going to work on our group projects for the upcoming Literary Scholastics Fair. You can pick your partner that'll you'll be working with. But I advise you to pick wisely if you want a good grade. So take a moment to decide and I'll come around the room to ask you who you partnered with."

The class erupted in loud chatter as students shuffled around the class to pick their partner.

Ratatosk turned around in his seat and gave me his infamous smirk.

"Sooo, 'partner'. Want the privilege of working with me?"

"Not when you have to ask like that, no." Couldn't he ever be sincere and just ask me in a normal fashion? Does he HAVE to sound like a player to get me to say yes?

"You wound me, Marta." he said dramatically, holding his hands to his chest as though in pain. "You really do."

"Will you quit it already?"

"Not until you say yes."

"Heh. Not a chance."

"Come on."

"Nope. No way."

This guy was going to be the death of me. I swear. So why do I like him again?

"Please, Marta?" I could feel my face heat from the drop in tempo in his voice. It sounded…husky.

'_Gah! Stupid Jerk! He's not supposed to sound so…so GOOD! Ugh!'_

"Please?"

'_He just had to be good looking, didn't he?'_ I sat there, speechless. I didn't know how to answer him when he asked like that.

"Marta?"

"…F-Fine." I grumbled. Darn that charm of his!

He grabbed my hand in his and gave me this look. I'm not sure how to explain it, but it gave me butterflies all of a sudden. He held my hand to his face (I could practically feel the warmth of his breath on my skin) and looked at me intently (with a smirk, I'm sure of).

"You won't regret this."

"I think I just did." I forced out, putting on the best scowl I could muster in the moment.

I was still battling with the butterflies that nearly made me smile at him. Hopefully, He thought the blush was from anger…and most certainly not from that irresistible smile of his (mentally bashing myself over the head for thinking this).

"Oh, you know you like me. So no need to explain."

That was when I ripped my hand from his own and whacked him over the head. Hard too. No one was paying attention, which was good.

"Don't get any ideas now. I said I agreed to work on the project with you. It's not like I said I'd marry you or anything."

He leaned his back against the wall to his left, arms crossed behind him as though he hadn't felt a thing (must be hard-headed), and spoke in confidence (with that stupid, and so not cute, smirk on his face).

"But just like right now, I bet you I could get you to say yes again if I asked you to marry me."

"Why you-!" I was about ready to pummel him when the teacher came by our desks.

"Ms. Lualdi, Mr. Castagnier. I assume you'll be working together?" he asked us.

"Yes we will." Ratatosk answered with a cool attitude before I could interject. He turned back to me and smirked with a victorious look.

"Ok." He checked off our names on his list and gave us an approving smile. "Well, good luck you two."

"Thank you, sir." Ratatosk says to the teacher before he heads on to the next group of kids up in front.

"Any ideas for the project?" I asked him. I was a little irked with his confidence to manipulate things to his liking. Must come with the jerky attitude.

He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. But we can work it out over lunch. My treat."

"Sounds good." Well, that made things a little better.

The bell rang and students filed out the door in happy chatter. Ratatosk rose from his seat and pulled his black backpack over his shoulders, turning back to me as I watched him in confusion.

"So I guess I'll meet you out at front." he said with a smile/smirk.

"At front? Why at the front of the school?"

"Because, my dear." He pulled me up from my desk and handed me my book bag (and no, I didn't feel a little light-headed when he called me 'dear'). "You just agreed to have a lunch date with me." he said with a wink of his ruby eye.

"Wha! I didn't agree to ditch school with you." I whispered to him as we walked out the classroom. He pulled me over to a corner to finish our discussion.

"Come on, Marta. You gotta live a little."

"Do you even know what you're suggesting? We could get caught if anyone sees a couple of high schoolers outside of school." No way was I going to get in trouble for him!

"We'll come right back if that's what you want."

"T-That's not the point!"

"Just this one time. I promise."

"No. I-we can't do this. It's against the rules. We could get detention. Or worse…SUSPENSION! Is that what you want? For us to get suspension?"

He laid a hand on my shoulder and lowered his head to be at eye level with me. "Then I'll take the blame for it. Easy as that."

He looked, and sounded, so serious that I was taken back for a moment. And to think, he was willing to take the blame for me…

"You can't do that." I said to him, my voice losing all the panic it once held and reduced to wonder and disbelief.

"But I will."

"Why?" I could feel my cheeks flare with our proximity. His gaze was making me feel exposed, naked,…weak.

He stared at me and I wasn't sure how long I was going to last. He gripped my shoulder tighter and it seemed like the space between our faces was shortening.

"Because."

"Because?" I think my heart was close to combusting. It kept pounding hard against my chest and ringing loudly in my ears. I wondered if he was able to hear it.

"Because…" I waited with bated breath for his next words. "Because…it's a secret." he finally said with a smirk, pulling away and leaving me confused and flustered on the spot. He turned around and started walking to our lockers. "Hurry up, bean. I'm feeling up for some pizza and I don't want to be waiting in line for a table."

My heart was still pounding away and the flush was clearly on my face. But I managed to formulate a coherent sentence to reply and will my legs to follow.

"R-Right." Ok, maybe a coherent word. But it was something nonetheless.

I think.

* * *

We managed to get to the Pizzeria before noon (after ditching classes) and sat at a table in the back of the building so that we weren't easily discovered (much to my relief).

I'll admit, this is the first time I've ever ditched school. It was really nerve-wracking as we made the trip here, for I was constantly looking all around me in case a familiar teacher walked by. Ratatosk kept assuring me that the chances of a teacher being around the area during classes was zero to none. But that didn't help much in the least. I was still very much nervous and continued to be on the alert as he pulled me along.

But we made it there without any complication, just as Ratatosk said (he didn't waste a second to rub it in my face).

We casually passed the waiters and took our seats. And that's how we got to where we are now.

I'm a little surprised, though, that it was so easy to do. I thought it would be nearly impossible to leave the school unnoticed. But maybe Ratatosk has done this so much that it's practically child's play for him.

And even though I know I did something way out of my behavior and could possibly get in trouble with the school and my mom for, I also gotta admit that this is quite fun. It makes me feel a little adventurous. And I haven't felt like that in a long while…

"So. What do you feel like eating?" he asked from beside me. Yeah, did I also mention that we got a booth seat and that he didn't mind sitting so close to me? Well, now you know.

"Hmm. All of these choices sound so good that I can't decide."

"You're right on that. Say, why don't we get a half and half of two different kinds."

I looked the prices over for such an order. "I don't know. It's kind of pricey. And just for a slice is five bucks."

"Nothing to sweat."

I turned to him in disbelief. "You're telling me that thirty dollars for a half and half pizza isn't 'nothing to sweat' about?"

"Yeeeah." he drawled on. "You think I'm broke or something?"

"I'm not saying you don't have the money for it. Which makes me wonder how much exactly you have on you."

"Enough."

"Ok. But if I'd known that we were going to an expensive restaurant to eat, I would have told you to take us to a simple sandwich shop."

"But I was hungry for pizza. And they serve the best here."

I played with the ends of my skirt in shame. "I-It's just that…I feel guilty that you have to spend so much on me. And I don't mind paying for my half since I agreed to this."

He leaned his head on the hand that was propped up and gave me a serious look. "And what made you think that it was a bother for me to buy you lunch? I've done it before, haven't I?"

Well-…yes." I said, looking down.

"Then let me treat you without the guilt. And besides…" he ruffled the top of my head, catching my attention to his face. "We're supposed to be relaxing and having fun."

"I thought we were going to work over some ideas for the project?"

"Nah. We have lots of time to do that later."

"What? But you said-!"

"AAAND we'll get to that later." He put a finger to my lip to silence me. "I just hating being cooped up in school for so long. So right now, I wanna have fun and relax."

"But-."

"No buts. Just relax. Got it?" I just nodded my head. "Good. Now lets get a waitress here because I'm starving."

A waitress passed by our booth at that moment. She turned to us with a friendly smile and had her pencil on hand, ready to write. "Are you two ready to order?"

"Yup. Just get us a half and half pizza."

"And what two kinds did you want?"

"Hmm." He took a second to think it over. "Make one side pepperoni and the other a supreme."

She scribbled on the notepad and looked back at Ratatosk. "And would that be all for you, sir?"

"Oh. And get us two cokes."

"Half pizza…and two cokes." She mumbled to herself as she wrote. "Alright. So I got you down for a pepperoni and supreme half pizza and two cokes?"

"Yes."

"And would that be all for you two?"

"Yes."

"And that'll be thirty six dollars and forty two cents."

"Ok." He pulled out a large wad of money and handed the waitress the right amount, plus tip.

"Thank you, sir. And your orders will be ready in twelve minutes." She scurried to the front to hand over the ticket and to attend to another table.

He gave me a smirk when he turned his head my way. "See? I told you I had the money for it."

"I guess you did." I was still feeling a little guilty that he had to pay all that money.

I saw that his eyes narrowed playfully, a (cute) pout on his face. "Hey." He said in a warning tone. "You better not be feeling guilty. I already told you that I didn't mind paying."

"I-I never said I was feeling guilty still." I retaliated. But instead of sounding convincing, I think I made it sound like I was on the defense.

"Uh huh. Yeah, definitely." he said sarcastically.

"Fine. Don't believe me."

"Good. Because I don't."

"I wasn't lying."

"You're red like a tomato." He smirked at me.

"S-Stop pointing out the obvious! You stupid jerk!" I landed blow after blow on his arm. But the jerk had the decency to laugh it off like it was nothing.

"Haha. Man, you're weak."

"I said shut it!" I continued to hit his arm. But he didn't so much as flinch.

He caught both my wrists and sat me down. "Geez with you. Aren't you a ball of energy?"

"Hmph! Maybe you shouldn't say such mean things."

"But that's what makes you so interesting." He ruffled my hair again. "You're definitely not like other girls I know."

"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?" I wasn't sure if he meant it in a good way or not.

"It means that you're not stuck up, all girly and self-centered. Sure you're quiet around others and tend to overreact things. Not to mention that you're loud, weak, too short to reach-."

"Where are we going with this?" I asked him angrily. He looked to content with naming all my flaws. Grr!

"What I'm trying to say is…I don't mind all these things about you. In fact, I'm glad to have met someone who's like you."

I felt my cheeks heat up again and my heart suddenly skip a beat. "R-Really?"

"Yup." he said with a large smile.

"Are you being serious?" I asked with suspicion. With Ratatosk, you could never tell if he was being sincere or a smart aleck.

"Of course."

"Oh…" I looked down and tried to will the blush away. This was quickly becoming awkward on my part, especially since he was being nice about it.

"But you know." He started. "It wouldn't be a bad thing to be more outspoken."

"What do you mean by that?"

"It's just that, you always have this far away look to you when by yourself. It usually appears when you're alone at your locker or when you walk out the doors of school at the end of the day. I don't know what it is, but it's that attitude that prevents you from showing others what you're really like."

"And is that a problem?"

"No. But it would give you a boost of confidence."

"I'm not so sure about that…"

"You'll never know unless you try. And besides, what do you got to lose?"

What I got to lose, huh? What he doesn't know is that I can't show people the real me. I would just be a burden. Heck, I'm pretty sure that I cause enough trouble as it is for Ratatosk. Imagine doing the same to a group of other students? No…I can't impose on other people like that. I don't want to drive a wedge between friends because of my own pitiful ways.

But I've always wondered what it would be like to have friends, other than Ratatosk anyways. From time to time, when I'm alone in my room or thinking to myself at the locker in the mornings (when Ratatosk doesn't show up yet), I've entertained the thought of having a social life like all the other teens my age. I'd picture in my mind what it'd be like to go out for pizza or sleep over at other peoples' homes. And I've always wanted to take group pictures in those booths at the mall and talk about embarrassing situations that we've been in.

But my mom…she'd never let me have that kind of life. Ever.

I scratched the back of my head (avoiding the side with the lump from this morning) in nervousness. "I can't."

"Why not? Don't you want people to see the real you? Aren't you tired of being ignored by others?"

"Maybe. But, I-I just can't. I'm certainly not as confident as you are. Everyone likes you."

He leaned back and stared up at the ceiling with a serious expression. "That doesn't mean much. Everyone just likes me for my looks. It was never about my personality that interested them."

"I'm not concerned about how you look."

"Sure, you don't. But with other students, it's a different story entirely. And everyone expects something of me."

"I'm sorry to hear that. But I'm sure that you'll pull through it. You don't look like the type that gives up easily."

"What makes you say that?"

"I don't know. Call it intuition, if you will. But you just strike me as someone who's willing to go the extra mile to make a point."

"You think so?"

"I…I know so."

"Aren't you quite the observant one?"

"Of course. We're, uh, friends…right?"

He didn't say anything for a few seconds, building up my anxieties since I asked. It's one of those fears I had when it came to 'us'. I wasn't sure what he thought of me. Were we friends? Acquaintances? Classmates? We talked in school and ate lunch together. But did it constitute as being friends? He never did specify what he really thought of me. And I just kind of assumed we were friends. But I was afraid. I was deathly afraid of what he'd say. I know it's silly to think like that.

But it's true. I was afraid of losing Ratatosk and amounting to anything less of what I thought we were. I don't want to lose him. Not now…not ever.

So I sat there, waiting for his response. Waiting on baited breath for the words that would either take me or break me. His gaze was still on the ceiling. Mines were on his passive face.

He kept his eyes on the ceiling. I almost thought he hadn't heard what I asked. But then he lifted his head slightly and regarded me with a smile. It was genuine. "I guess we are." I felt my heart swell with those words. So he thought kindly of me. What a relief.

He started to turn in his seat till he was sitting straight towards me, to my confusion. His cheeks were lightly, almost unnoticeably, tainted a red hue. "Actually. To be perfectly honest, I think I-."

"Here's your order." The waitress' voice chimed in, shaking the serious atmosphere that surrounded us. A flicker of something crossed his eyes, something I couldn't distinguish, as he turned around to regard the waitress. She placed the large plate of pizza on the table and handed him the two glasses of soda. He didn't look at me when he placed one of the glasses on front of me. He said a quick thank you to the waitress and began to take a big bite of his slice. We ate in silence after that.

He never did tell me what he was going to say. And I figured it was best not to ask.

* * *

"Ugh. I'm sooo full. I don't think I can take another step." I rubbed my stomach in content. We were walking down the street from the Pizzeria.

"Then why don't you roll your way down, you fatty." He smirked as he said that.

"Shut up. You should be thankful that I'm too stuffed to fight back. Or you'd be kissing pavement."

"Should I just lie down on the floor then? Because with those toothpicks you call arms I don't think we'll be getting anywhere with that."

"Zip it." I adjusted the straps of my backpack as we walked. "I can't believe I let you convince me to ditch classes. What was going through my head then?"

"Hey. You had fun. So don't throw all the blame on me. And besides…" He poked my arm. "You didn't have to come along."

I swatted his finger away. "I didn't have to. But you offered a free meal as incentive. How could I possibly pass that up?"

"Anything for food, huh?"

"You know me so well." I said dramatically. This got us to laugh wholeheartedly.

We chatted, playfully shoving each other along the way or pointing out something funny we saw. Before either of us knew it, we arrived at the school.

Suddenly, I wasn't feeling as happy as before.

"Well…" he trailed off.

"Yeah…"

"Today was really fun."

"It was." I tried to put on a convincing smile, even though my elation was quickly deflating with the knowledge that our fun day was over.

"Maybe…if you want…we can do this again next time?"

"I-I guess."

"Cool. Cool. So, uh, I guess I'll see you at school tomorrow."

"Sure. Um, see you tomorrow Ratatosk."

"Yeah. See you tomorrow…Marta."

We went our separate ways. He, to his parents. And me, to a lonely home with a constantly drunk mother. But I would be going home with something else today: a fun experience.

I'll dearly treasure this day because …because me and Ratatosk got a little closer. As friends. But that's alright. I couldn't have asked for anything more.

I've been blessed with a wonderful person. And thanks to him, I know what's it's like to care for someone. Today, I gained a little more likeness for him.

* * *

**A/N:** Aaah. Now wasn't that just sweet? I was lacking some serious RataMarta fluff. So this, I hope, quenched your sweet tooths.

Anyways, leave me a review. Thanks!


	5. Bringing Shields Down

**A/N:** Welcome, one and all. I hope you've been having a good day so far. If not, maybe this chapter will make you feel a little better. Heheh. Anyways, I've come across a small dilemma as I was writing out this chapter. And I can't believe myself to have made such a amateur mistake. But I guess that's what being human is about. So as I was getting at, I came to the realization that I forgot who I replied to on their review and who I didn't. now before you start saying, "This isn't the worst a person can do". I'd like to remind you that I value everyone's input and find it extremely offensive if I don't return the favor and reply back. So I decided to just reply to the recent reviews on the author's notes. That cool with you guys (and gals)?

**Kalana Fox:** Aw. Thanks so much Kalana for the uplifting review. I never get tired of reading any comments you leave me. They're a great combo of hilarity, heartfelt happiness and helpful advice for my writing skills. And thanks for the heads up on grammar mistakes and such. Hopefully, I can keep them low to none as the story progresses. Oh, and that video is hilarious…and strangely cute (o.O) all at once. Maybe I'm a secret sadist? Lol. Who knows. But anyways, thanks again for being a loyal reader and leaving me such wonderful comments.

**Chibylove:** I'll only say this once: GET A FREAKIN' FF ACCOUNT ALREADY! I swear, I always see a review from you. And always, I want to write you back and let you know how much I appreciate the kind sentiments. But guess what? You don't have an account. So this makes my job even harder. So please make an account so I can do just that. And heck, you don't even have to write fanfics to have one. Just create it. So unless you want me to take a century to update the next chapters, you better do what's good for you and make an account. Got it? Good. Oh, and thanks so much for the review. ^w^

**redydragonfly:** Thanks a whole bunch for leaving me a review. I never get tired of seeing the enthusiasm behind your comments. And what can I say? I love creating mixed feelings for the readers. Wow. Seven times? Now that's some dedication. You've greatly warmed my heart after reading this. /_/ And believe me when I say that I can only hope this fic of mines gets known to all RataMarta fans out there. But for now, I'll take appreciation in the readers I have now. So thanks again for the encouraging words. I think I can get through any writer's block now.

**animefan24:** I just love the enthusiasm in all your reviews. Lucky for you, I have this wonderful fifth chapter published. Now you have another chapter to look forward to. And yes, he said her chest was flat. But, come on. You gotta admit that her chest is…iron board-like. Oh, and I have a lot in store for Marta's mother. That ***** WILL pay for hurting the cute and lovable Marta. Mark my words. But until then, I have to put you through all the frustrations that come with Marta being abused by her mother. On the plus side, I'm glad that you're enjoying the RataMarta tid bits. It makes up for the anger towards Marta's mother, that's for sure.

**Edit:** On another note, I'm really sorry about the long delay. I had a death in the family and it prevented me from writing this out quicker. Since then, I've been in a funk of sorts. So I hope you take my humble apology into consideration because I promised you guys that I'd improve my updating speed. And here I was letting you guys down again. But rest assured, things are getting patched up in my life. So no biggie. But I'm definitely going to make sure this doesn't happen again. I also hope I didn't lose some of you because of the delay. I'll try to earn your respect again with better chapters if I have to. Anyways, thanks for reading this seemingly boring rant. I'll let you get to your reading now.

"Regular dialogue"

'_Mental dialogue'_

**Dialogue previously said**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 5: Bringing Shields Down**

I was feeling really, really (REALLY) nervous about going to school today. Gosh. And I don't think I'll ever be able to act normal again after what happened.

It seemed like yesterday's lunch/school ditching experience only heightened my infatuation for the blonde (if that was any possible). All throughout the walk back home, I couldn't stop my heart from beating wildly against my chest or break down the wall in my mind that prevented air to circulate in my brain. On the plus side, though, my face was so hot that the autumn winds didn't bother me in the least when I was walking back home.

And then to top it all off, I had a dream about us in the Pizzeria acting all lovey dovey, sharing a slice of pizza like that one movie with the two dogs sharing a spaghetti noodle. I think I nearly had a stroke when I woke up. I mean, it's not every day that I have dreams about a guy in school. Especially if he's my friend!

Geez. I feel like such a pervert. And the worst thing is, I don't know what to do about this. I've never had experience in crushes nor do I have any other friends I can talk to about this. The only resources I have to compare my situation with are my manga (which haven't been much of a help as of late). And I can forget going to my mom for assistance. She'd just call me something crude if she knew I even so much as glanced at a guy. But to tell her that I like a guy? No, no, no. I'd rather not think about that.

But how should I act with him now? How did I act with him before?

Can I still be a friend to him when I'm having these…feelings towards him?

Wait. What if he finds out that I actually like him as more than a friend? Will he be ok with it? Will he stop being friends with me?

No, no, no, no! I can't let that happen! That could ruin everything!

…But maybe he'll be fine with it. Heck, he'll probably even say he feels the same way too.

….

….

Who am I kidding! He'd never say something like that!

Oh, great. I can already see the school up ahead. Breathe. Breathe, Marta.

Ok, calming down a little. But I still don't think I'm ready to face him just yet. My heart's pounding too hard just thinking about it. So what'll happen when I actually see him at my locker?

Gah! This is too confusing!

(Insert mental image of me ripping out all my hair, minus the pain)

"Everyone, hurry up and get to your classes!" called out a teacher at the gate. I could recognize that voice from anywhere.

Her name is Mr. Rain and she's the nicest science teacher in school. She can be strict at times, especially when she's teaching a lesson. But she definitely knows how to motivate her students to do the work. And she's like the mother figure of the school. I mean, lots of students go to her when they have problems that they can't consult their parents about. Strange, huh?

I was nearing the school gates when she turned her attention my way, waving a hand and sporting a friendly smile.

"Hello, Ms. Lualdi."

"Hi, Ms. Rain." I said in a low voice. Even after knowing her for a month, I was still uncomfortable about making myself noticed. I didn't like to raise my voice louder than necessary because I wasn't used to being noticed. Not since my life changed for the worst. Not to mention, I was still feeling jittery from my nervousness.

"I hope you remembered to bring in your worksheets?" she asked me in her motherly voice.

"Oh, of course." I opened my backpack and pulled out a paper from a folder inside. "See?" I flashed the homework in front of her.

She gives it a once over, heightening my anxiety (I don't want to find out I did a bad job on it before it was turned in). she scanned her eyes over it a second time and I thought for sure there was a lot wrong with it.

She finally looks to me and nods her head in an approving manner.

"Good job, Ms. Lualdi." she praised. "Now you better hurry if you don't want to be late."

Phew.

"Yes, ma'am." I said again, quietly. I ran towards the double doors, pushed them open in haste and sprinted the rest of the way to my locker, which was surprisingly Ratatosk-free. Weird. Because he's usually there before me.

But I didn't let that bother me so much, considering I had to hurry and get to class (and I wasn't eager to see him after all the fretting I was doing before). I pulled out the necessary textbooks and slammed the locker door shut, clicking the lock in place. I put the books in my backpack and ran towards my first period before the tardy bell rang.

The first thing I saw when I opened the classroom door was Ratatosk laying his head on his desk, looking at the black board in what appeared to be boredom. My heart was skipping beats a second and I felt myself hesitate in walking to my desk, because that meant getting his attention on me. And he'd most likely see the immense blush on my face and hear my heart pounding away in my chest.

I definitely didn't want him to see or hear my anxiety.

My teacher gave me a pointed look, as though silently questioning my sanity for staying by the door a minute before the bell was supposed to ring. I felt embarrassed, ducking my head low, and quickly rushed to my assigned seat (behind Ratatosk). I didn't dare let my eyes stray to his head as I slung my backpack over my chair and placed a spiral and pencil on my desk.

The bell rang.

Our teacher took this as her cue to get up from her seat, straightening out her skirt with tiny fingers, and gave the class an authoritative gaze.

"Ok, class. We're going to finish last class' lecture on the Mesozoic Era. As you can see on the board, the people there…"

Not even a minute into the lecture and I was already getting distracted from taking notes. The droning of our teacher's lecturing was slowly fading into the background like all the other noises around me. I was highly aware of my labored breathing just sitting a few inches away from Ratatosk. My fingers were shaking slightly, the grip on my pencil becoming loose. And it's a good thing Ratatosk is so tall, otherwise I'm pretty sure I would have gotten a few strange looks from the teacher.

And while I was practically having an emotional breakdown, Ratatosk, on the other hand, appeared to be doing just fine. I could see his hand furiously writing down all the notes. His gaze was constantly on the board as she spoke, also. But unlike all the other times, he hasn't once turned around in his seat to pass me a note or talk to me in whispers over anything that happened that day.

So was I the only one that was fretting over yesterday's events?

I let out a sigh over my stupidity to overlook things. I really was the only one fretting about it. I really was the only one who felt something…change yesterday. But how could he behave so indifferently when I was an emotional mess?

How?

I mean, he was acting differently himself. Since school yesterday he was being very 'touchy', if you will. All those gazes that still make my stomach do tumbles, the constant closeness of our bodies, his unusually kind behavior and that awkwardness towards the end of that day. He wasn't being his usual name-calling, jerky guy with a smirk that looked permanent on his face. He was…someone much different.

So, shouldn't that mean something? Anything remotely close to affection?

I don't know anymore. And I don't want to get my hopes up for nothing.

But what about you, Ratatosk? What exactly do you feel for me? Are we really friends?

Or, are we starting to be…?

"Ms. Lualdi!"

"Wha!" I was shaken from my thoughts when I heard the teacher yell out my name, standing beside my desk while thumbing the edge of a ruler.

(On a mental note, remind me never to make the teacher mad.)

"Ms. Lualdi? What is the answer?" Her leering eyes weren't helping me any. If looks could kill…well, we all know the answer to that.

She kept her stare (glare) on me while the other students looked on in curiosity.

Oh, great! Now I got everyone's attention. Including Ratatosk's! Please, can someone just end my misery already?

"Ms. Lualdi? I'm waiting on your answer." she said impatiently.

'_No pressure there.'_ I think with sarcasm.

The looks from everyone were starting to make the room feel smaller and drops of sweat began to form at the roots of my hairline. This was becoming too much to handle. Their gazes felt like burns to my skin; like soldiers attacking from all sides. I was being watched…looked at…seen. I hated being visible. Being visible meant being criticized. And if you haven't already guessed, I don't handle well under pressure.

I had to think of something smart…quick! But what? What can I say that'll suffice as an answer and get people to stop looking at me?

"Ms. Lualdi? I'm talking to you. So what is it?"

'_Come on. Think, think, think! Something smart, Marta!'_

"Uh…" I gulp nervously. "What was the question?"

The world freezes over in that moment.

The teacher's face hardens greatly.

The room becomes silent.

And the world spins on its axis again.

I mentally face palmed myself the second those words were uttered. And now people were starting to laugh at me. At me!

My teacher didn't looked pleased in the least. In fact, I think her face hardened even more after I asked her that question. And again, if looks could kill…

"Oh, so you think this is funny?" she said with such distain.

"Wha? No, no, no. I-I didn't think it was funny. Honest. I-I just asked-"

"No more excuses, Ms. Lualdi." She pounded the ruler hard on the palm of her hand. "It's plainly obvious that you didn't care to pay attention to my lecture."

I was about to protest, but she beat me to it.

"And since you find my lecture utterly boring, I think it would be best you stand outside in the hall until class is done."

I hung my head low to keep from everyone seeing my teary eyes. "Y-Yes, Ms. Takumi." I said in a voice barely above a whisper.

"And take your things with you."

"…Yes, ma'am."

I gathered my spiral and pencil, sticking them inside my backpack and unhooked the straps from around my chair. I avoided looking at anyone as I did this, too afraid to see the smirks that I was sure were forming on their faces. I didn't even want to look at Ratatosk after such a humiliating experience. He'd probably have the same look as everyone else. And I don't think I could handle such a look if it was coming from him.

I walked through the few desks before me and heard snickering as I passed by. There were also hushed whispers. But I couldn't make out what was said.

Well, it doesn't matter anyways. I know for a fact it was about me.

And after all this time that I made sure to avoid confrontation and/or embarrassment that's witnessed by any of the students here. It came crashing down on me in a matter of fifteen minutes. I was the laughing stock now. The girl that wasn't paying attention in class and decided to go off on a thinking tangent instead of taking notes like a good student.

I just hope she doesn't tell my mom about this. The last thing I need (other than a destroyed reputation) is to get beaten for doing stuff like this in school. I'm already getting scared just thinking about it too. Images of beatings from three nights ago become all too vivid in my mind as I pass the desks of curious classmates. My body cringed a little from the thought.

I turned the knob of the door and made my leave with whatever last shred of dignity I had after all that (which probably wasn't much to begin with, considering my already low self-esteem). It wasn't before the door closed shut that I heard a guy burst out in loud laughter. And with the door shut, I could vaguely hear a couple of other people join in as the volume of their laughter increased.

I dropped my bag and slid down the floor. I drew my legs in and hugged them the best I could as I shook in hysterics. I tried clenching my eyes shut as best as possible. And I bit hard on my lip, hoping to muffle the sobs that were wracking my body.

But that didn't stop the sniffling through my nostrils or the tears leaking through the corners of my eyes. I was breaking down in the middle of the school hall. How pathetic is that?

In retrospect, I shouldn't have been getting so emotional over something as miniscule as being on the receiving end of humiliation in front of all my classmates.

But maybe that's just because of my situation. I was never this emotional before; positivity should have been my middle name at the time. It was easy to brush things off like nothing and look at the brighter side of things. At the time, people didn't see me as some strange girl who was extra quiet and anti-social to the max.

No. I was the girl who made friends with many and was treated with respect. I had a 'sunny' personality, I'll admit.

That was before life got rough and my smile faded ever so slowly with time. I lost my happiness all together.

'_My happiness…'_

I guess I didn't notice the tears running down my face until I felt something warm on my face. But then I saw something lightly tan on my cheeks when I went to brush the liquid off and jolted up in fright.

(Another note to self: don't suddenly slide your body back when you've been sitting near school lockers. You'll only hit against said lockers…which are made of metal by the way)

I whipped my head to the side (a hand rubbing at my hurt head) and saw the last person I expected to be out here.

"R-Ratatosk?"

He cocked a smirk. "Yup."

"B-But, why are you h-here?"

He kneeled down, reached his hand out and swiped it under my left eye. Smirk long gone. "Why are you crying?" he said with a serious face.

I momentarily got lost in the sensation of his warmth on my skin, my head reeling with all these different emotions I couldn't name. Though, the butterflies in my stomach were probably a clear indication of what my body was experiencing. It's been so long since I've felt a warm caress on my face. Far too long since then.

But it didn't last long as I felt his gaze on me (more like piercing gaze that could see right through me…and my hidden emotions) and I shook my head away to the side.

I can't let him see me looking so vulnerable. I'm not supposed to let anyone see.

"I-I'm not crying." I force out stubbornly. "And besides, I already t-told you not to answer my question with another question."

I felt his hand under my chin, attempting to turn my face forward. And I fought it for a few seconds because I didn't want him to see the pathetic look on my face.

My mom thought it pathetic. She scolded me hard (and beat me up) for it.

She hated me most when I was like this.

I don't want to get the same reaction from Ratatosk too. He'll hate me too if he sees.

Just like my own mother did.

I can feel the tears roll down like a river, obscuring my vision of the school hall. I felt the hiccups bubbling up my throat like bitter acid. Or maybe it was the bile from having been caught in such a vulnerable state. What ever the case, I felt embarrassed and utterly sick from letting down my defenses like that.

I felt sick with myself.

I kept resisting some more to his (surprisingly) gentle grip. He placed both hands on my tear stained face and turned it to look at him.

I don't think I've ever felt as self-conscious like I do at this moment. I wanted to crawl in a corner and stay there till graduation, if possible. Here I was, sitting on the floor of the school hall, crying my heart out to the guy I have a crush on, and, to make matters worse, all of this happened because I was thinking of said guy.

And did he have to give me that look? It's almost like he knows it makes me feel uncomfortable and raw- like as if my insides don't tumble in excitement while making me feel queasy and lightheaded. His gaze should be illegal, if anything. He's the reason my heart either pounds like a jackhammer or goes into cardiac arrest. It makes me want to turn away. But the hands on my face are preventing such movement.

Images of my mother beating me, with a look of pure malice on her face, yelling curse words at the top of her lungs, come to mind. I feel that familiar feeling of dread and panic creep up. And before I know it, I'm crying out hysterically.

His thumbs brush away the tears that fall and his face contorts in this expression of hurt. But that's what I'm barely able to see from my quickly blurred vision as I started to hyperventilate.

"P-Please, don't l-look at (hic) m-me. P-Please."

"Marta…" His eyes have a look of concern in them, the red in his irises toning down from a blazing red to a deep crimson. "Why are you crying?" he asks softly.

"N-No. I (hic) can't say. D-Don't look at m-me. P-Please (hic) don't."

"Breath, Marta." he says slowly, like he's comforting a child. "Take a deep breath, hold it in, and release. Can you do that?"

I'm shaking my head no, still gasping for breath. I'm becoming increasingly lightheaded from the crying and his warm touch.

He scoots closer to me, his now bended knees brushing my own, takes my hand gently and places it over his chest. Over his heart.

"Breath." he repeats, exaggerating his own breathing. He inhales deeply, pauses, and exhales. "Like me. Breath like me, Marta."

I'm trying to focus on the fall and rise of his chest, working to copy his action. I clench my eyes shut again and let Ratatosk's comforting voice fill my mind, feeling the steady thumping of his heartbeat. Eventually, the lightheadedness leaves me and I'm able to think a little clearly.

"That's good. Breathe just like that."

I'm still hiccupping a little and the tears come in trickles by now. But by some miracle, the pain subsides some and my emotions are more composed if any.

"Now open your eyes." he commands.

I do as he says and open my eyes slowly, my lids heavy with liquid. His image is a little blurry, so I blink the rest of the tears back to see him clearly. And I think my heart leaped a good twelve feet from my body when I saw the care on his face. I'm immediately reminded of my father who once showed a similar look.

No one, besides my dad, has ever given me such a concerned look…

"Why were you crying, Marta?"

Even his voice is gentle, like my dad's.

"I-I'm so sorry, Ratatosk. I'm sorry." I plead desperately with him.

He shakes his head no and thumbs my cheek again. "You don't have to be sorry for anything. Nothing whatsoever. It's ok to be emotional sometimes. There's nothing wrong with expressing how you feel."

I clasp a hand around his wrist and blink back another set of tears, leaning my face onto his warm palm. It's such a comforting warmth, as opposed to the chilling skin of my mother's bony hands (the hands that hurt me).

He's still brushing away the tears on my face, our knees still touching, and his warmth surrounding my entire being. For the first time in a long while, I feel loved.

How did I go so long without it? Without this feeling...?

"Marta…was it those idiots that made you cry? Were they the ones who made you sad?" He sounds concerned. But there's a tinge of anger in his words.

I just nod my head in affirmation.

"Those bastards..." he mutters under his breath.

For a split second, I feel his hands stiffen and his eyes smolder with emotion. With an emotion that sort-of reminds me of a fire breaking out.

I've never seen such a look cross his features before. Not even during that time we almost got into it when we first met. Sure, he was irritated then (snarky at most). But he looked really mad right now. His eyes said it all. Not to mention, the deep scowl on his face.

He wraps his hands around my shoulders and pulls me tightly to his body. I was startled by such a bold move, holding in my breath because I was afraid to shatter this moment if I did.

"It's ok now, Marta. I'll protect you from such things." He takes a deep breath and exhales loudly through his nostrils. "And like this, I won't be able to see. So please…please don't cry alone? Come to me whenever you feel down. **I'll protect you**."

My heart swelled with his words. And that was all it took for me to burst out sobbing again.

* * *

I leave school to head towards my house like usual; walking through the chilling autumn winds and carrying a heavy heart. The same thoughts running through my head like always.

I was worried about the mood my mom was in today, what she'll hit me for this time, what friend she brought over (if any), and if I'll be able to attend school tomorrow after the day with her.

I was worried about the time I would be allowed to finish my homework, if my grades were decent enough to keep me from repeating, if my teachers had any suspicion of what I was going through, and how the students will treat me tomorrow after the humiliation I went through.

Same worries as ever. Nothing different about that.

But I'm also worried about the thoughts running through Ratatosk's head as we embraced on the floor of the hall. He was silent during the whole time I poured my heart out in crying, only embracing tighter when I started choking on words I meant to say, but couldn't. I wanted to tell him that I was sorry, but I was also thankful he was comforting me. But the words were lost with the crying. So I figured it was hopeless trying to say something and just settled for more crying instead.

But just being held like that gave me a sense of peace and security. It felt like the cruel words and painful attacks I've always endured wouldn't be able to hurt me if I was in his arms.

I was falling more and more into like with him. And I don't know where the feelings stop either. But I hope to cherish these few moments for the rest of my life, when after Ratatosk is taken from my life or when he decides to give his heart to another (which I'll most likely cry over. But still). I don't need the grandest of happiness' nor do I need to be treated like I'm at the top of a pedestal. If all life is willing to give me is his friendship, then so be it. I'll take what I can get and make the most of it.

Needless to say, I'm gonna have to learn to become accustomed to my heart jack hammering away each time he's around.

My mom, upon return, was sprawled over on the couch, a beer mug in one hand that dangled off to the side and a turned over photo in the other. I carefully pried the mug from her hand, laid that same arm over her stomach and went about pulling the picture from the hand on her chest. She stirred in her sleep when I tugged on the object, causing me to stiffen. But she stayed asleep nonetheless. So I went about my task again, more gently this time in case she woke up from the feeling. A few more tugs and I finally managed to get the photo free, turning it over to see what she was looking at.

I felt my eyes mist over.

There, dressed in a white collared dress shirt and hair neatly pulled back in a pony tail, was my dad. He was smiling brightly against the blue sky and floral scenery. He looked younger in this photo, which means this was taken sometime before I was born. A date, printed in ink, was written on the lower corner, indicating that, in fact, this was taken before my birth. Four years to be exact.

I fingered the image with gentle caresses, like the ones he's always given me but isn't here to give them now. My eyes welled up with emotion. But I tried to fight them back as I stared at his serene face, the back splash of colors heightening his gentle features.

A lone tear trailed down my face.

Oh, how I missed his presence in my life. He was the ray of light in my life, always offering to help me in dire (or mostly less dire) situations and providing me with an abundance of his love. I was never in short supply of it. But then he left my life and the dark clouds loomed over. Even with the sun up, I couldn't find my sunshine.

I guess I have Ratatosk to thank for providing a shroud of light in my darkened world. But I still miss my dad immensely.

My mom stirred again. So I placed the photo on the end table and bolted up the stairs, as quietly as possible, before she awoke to see me standing over her. But then, to my utter disappointment and fright (not to mention, bad luck), I tripped over a step and fell over with a loud thud. I gasped in a strangled voice when I heard my mom mumble my name from the living room. The couch creaked and the shuffling of feet was heard right after. I couldn't help but hold my breath in anticipation (because, come on, I couldn't possibly run up to my room and feign innocence, acting like I didn't cause the noise she heard).

"What the hell is your problem?" she sneered at me when she saw my body slumped over the stairs.

I promptly got up and stood facing her, wringing my hands in nervousness. "I-I accidently slipped over a s-step. Sorry." I told her in my normally nervous, meek voice.

"That's not what I'm talking about, you conniving bitch."

I was struck confused. "W-What?"

She pulled the photo I was looking at moments before from her pocket and waved it angrily in front of her. "You were fuckin' touching this, weren't you?" She pointed an accusing finger at me. "Weren't you!"

I stiffened.

"I-I-I…" I was at a loss for words. What was I supposed to tell her? That I was looking at it while she was knocked out?

"And did you think this was yours to look through? Huh? Did I tell you, 'Hey Marta. You can take a look at this personal photo that belongs to me' or 'Marta. You wanna invade your mom's privacy and look at her photo'?"

"N-No." I squeaked out, my lips trembling in fear.

"Then what the FUCK gave you a reason to be snooping around like that?"

I wrung my hands harder. "I-I didn't mean to s-snoop at your picture. I was just h-helping you get comfortable when I saw it. I didn't m-mean to l-look. P-Promise."

"Bullshit!" She stomped up the stairs, looking savage in all her livid glory. I instinctively brought my arms over my head when she neared me, holding a shaky hand up.

"You bitch!" she yelled out, her hand lunging for my head and pulled me down over the stairs. I tumbled down step after step, pain pounding away at my helpless body. I felt myself black out for a bit, for I didn't register myself reaching the floor till after a while of laying there. I struggled to get up, only to flinch from pain to my side and dropping down again. I tried again and got the same results, to my dismay.

From my angle of laying forward, I could only see her feet descend the stairs ever so slowly. Her movements proved to tease my already erratic emotions as I watched her feet get closer to the floor, snickering quietly as she did so. Being afraid of what she planned to do, I shut my eyes tightly and tried to get into my 'happy place'.

I can tell you now that it wasn't working like I would have wanted it to.

My body started shaking as my mom walked down those last steps. Her feet stopped an inch away from my face.

And my breath hitched.

"You like snooping around my stuff, Marta? Do you?" she spat out.

Her left foot pulled back and swung hard against my side. It caused me to cry out, eyes going wide as saucers.

"Mom (cough, cough). P-Please. Please st (cough) op."

She swung her leg towards my side again. "Don't you talk back to me! You better have more respect if you know what's good for you!" And another kick was delivered.

"S-Sorr-ah!" She kicked my stomach. I felt tears pooling around my eyes and the familiar head rush kick in. It just hurt too bad to hold back.

An image of my incident with Ratatosk in the hall replayed in my mind as she rounded me with another blow.

**Breath, Marta. Take a deep breath, hold it in, and release.**

"What's the matter, huh? Pissin' your pants or something?"

I didn't move, didn't scream, just laid there with my eyes shut tight and concentrating hard on the words Ratatosk told me. Like before, I struggled to get my breathing in control. I forced myself to clamp my mouth shut and hold in the breath I took in. I gave it a few seconds before releasing it and repeated the process again and again. My mom kept spitting venomous words at me, giving me the needed time to catch my breath. And after some time, I managed to level it out. I was getting oxygen running through my head again, heartbeat not thumping as crazily before.

"You're a fuckin' waste of space! I knew I should have just given you away when I had the chance!"

She kicked me again, sending me rolling across the floor and hitting my back against the wall. But I managed to keep my breathing in check.

**Now open your eyes.**

I cracked both eyes open to see my mom's body looming over my own, glaring daggers from her constantly narrowed eyes.

I'll be honest when I say that the sight of her angry face made me inwardly flinch, not to mention my heart dropped to my stomach. My breathing picked up a notch as I continued staring up at her through my bangs. I wanted desperately to crawl to a corner and ball up like the coward I've always been (because it's natural, second nature to all I've gone through). I felt small again, as insignificant as the dirt wedged between the soles of my shoes, unimportant in her eyes, and wished for her to just get the beating over with so I can peacefully slumber the pain away. The pain was most unbearable. It felt like acid searing through my veins and bleach to raw skin, my mom's cold personality like the air that makes it burn. My body was reverting to it's normally scared behavior as the time ticked away in my mom's eyes.

But I attempted to stay strong regardless of my fear. I have to take those first steps towards courage and overcome the weight of my burden, even though I'm well aware I brought this upon myself for ruining the family. I just…I just had to try.

"I-I'm sorry, mom." I told her, forcing my voice to come out a little louder and more confident (despite the slight chatter of my teeth).

"Oh, so now you're sorry?" she said in a snarky tone. "Like I'm gonna fuckin' believe that."

"I-I (gulp)…I'm really sorry, mom." I said again. I tried picturing Ratatosk's confident demeanor and attempted to play the same behavior through my voice. And it probably worked…a little.

"Well, isn't this amusing?" I saw her lift a foot up for a moment and felt a raging pain on my back the next. I stifled my cry using my hand. "Someone's gaining a backbone now? Didn't think I'd see the day you talked without fuckin' stuttering like a retard."

I felt more tears bud at my eyes very quickly.

"But that could be a problem. I guess I'm gonna have to fix this before it gets worse."

She yanked my head up from the floor and stared me square in the eye with a sinister look. Her hand pulled back and came flying down towards my face. I was fighting to keep my eyes from shutting.

I had to stay strong. I had to stay strong. I had to-

The doorbell rang loud and a man's voice boomed through the door. Her hand stopped a couple of inches away from my cheek as she averted her gaze between the door and me.

"Go to your fuckin' room." she said threateningly, dropping my body on the ground.

I stared in shock, unable to believe she let me go like that.

"I say go! NOW!"

That's all it took to shake me from my thoughts as I bolted up the stairs in a haste, not bothering to look back and see who the visitor was. I ran into my room and stayed by the doorframe to hear for anything downstairs.

I heard a man's voice and my mother laughing over something he said. I was only able to make out some parts of their conversation as I strained my ears for anything more.

"…Oh, Robert. You're too kind."

"And you…lovely…I know."

"And you…that's great."

"Yes."

"…daughter?"

"Her? She's sleeping…have a number in case."

"Good…let's go."

My mom let out one more giggle before I heard the door shut, leaving me in silence once again.

I let out a sigh of relief before retreating to my room; my solace. I slumped on my bed and just sat there, staring at the bare wall in mild haze (I wasn't allowed to decorate my room, because that meant I was a 'bad' girl).

My body hurt, but it was bearable. I could still sit properly if that was any indication. I wanted to kiss that man's feet for ringing the bell when he did.

But it didn't take any of the pain away. I could still feel it all around me.

But I just can't believe Ratatosk's words came in handy when they did. Because for whatever reason, I was able to speak a little clearer and look her straight in the eye like I did. It was almost like…like his words gave me a boost of courage. And I feel some sense of pride for not crying out when she kicked me numerous times (and they weren't soft taps either).

I was strong for the first time. I little braver. A bit more like the person I used to be.

A tear rolled down my cheek.

"I-I was brave. I really was."

More tears came flooding down my cheeks.

The familiar sticky feeling in the back of my throat returned.

"I-I finally looked her in the eye. Ratatosk was r-right. Hehe…he…(sniff)."

I furiously wiped both cheeks dry, smearing the substance and a little of what was coming down my nose.

"Stupid. You can't be c-crying like this. You have to stop. I h-have to stay strong."

…**please don't cry alone.**

"I have to stay strong (sniff, hic) because Ratatosk didn't want me c-crying alone. I h-have to stop this." My voice quivered as I spoke. My eyes flooded over like a dam.

And without fail, I was crying my heart out.

I was crying out because of the hurt my mom gave me when she came back from her date.

I was crying out because I was beat too bad to start my homework that night.

I was crying out because some of my classmates gave me funny looks when I passed them in the hall.

I was crying out because Ratatosk kept his word and protected me, silencing all the classmates from that one particular class from laughing at me (they looked scared right after) and holding me in his arms after school when I felt the urge to cry again.

I was just crying my heart out without the shields up.


	6. From Pink, To Green, To Pink

**A/N:** Hey, hey, hey~ Did you guys miss me? Huh? Well, Im back! And I have this new chapter for you guys to read.

But before I leave you to your reading pleasure, I have to make a quick announcement. (Grabs a megaphone from the shelf). Ahem.

This is for animefan24 in regards to a lack of an FF account. So can you please...GET YOURSELF A DANG ACCOUNT ALREADY? I've already had this problem with Chibylove for the same reason (no offence, Chibylove ^_^ ). I dont want to go through this again with you too. If there's anything I enjoy just as much as getting reviews and writing fics, it's replying to those wonderful reviewers. But I can't do that with you, now can I? So unless you want me to steal all your precious junk food, I suggest you get yourself an account made ASAP so that I can properly thank you for the reviews. Got it? Oh, and sorry for the delay of chappie 6, she said meekly. Hehe...school...what can you do about it?

Ahem.

And as for everyone else that's going to be a frequent reviewer, I suggest you make yourselves an account also! You know who you are...cough-chu-cough. So do it. Do it nooooow...(eerie music playing in background).

Phew. Well, now I'm done ranting. And one last thing, I put up a link on my profile to two RataMarta vids I made on YouTube. Go check it out and tell me how I did.

So now I'll leave you guys to read this chapter. Thanks.

Regular dialogue

_Dream state_

_

* * *

_

**Chapter 6: From Pink, To Green, To Pink**

"Marta! Hey, Marta!"

"Huh?" My ears immediately perked up when I heard his voice.

I turned around to see Ratatosk excitedly running towards me from the locker room (he took a little longer than I did to get dressed). I tried my hardest to ignore the few curious and angry looking glances I received from the students around me as I waited for him to near my locker. But it was really hard to ignore the blush that crept onto my features, burning my cheeks like a hot rod.

(The memory from a week ago was still fresh in my mind.)

He stopped a couple of inches from me, panting wildly and looking flushed. And even in an exhausted state, he looked...so handsome.

Gah! Stop thinking like that, Marta!

(Insert mental slapping across the cheek).

Ratatosk had this huge smirk on his face, holding a piece of paper in his hand.

"W-Whats all the commotion for?" I asked him. It felt really awkward talking to him after revealing the insecure side to myself. And that would explain why I stuttered at the beginning of my question.

Gah! Darn my emotions! And darn my involuntary reactions!

Ratatosk, on the other hand, appeared the same as usual. Jerk.

"Just one of the greatest news of all." he proudly said.

I looked down at the hand with the folded paper in its grip and averted my gaze back up to his bullion orbs in question.

"And what's that in your hand?" I asked, a little suspicious of it.

He waved the paper in my face and smirked even wider at the question. "This here paper?" he replied innocently (not). He kept dangling the turned over paper in front of me ever so slowly, tempting my curiosity even more than necessary.

It sounded like he wasn't going to answer my question. So instead, I decided to humor him by taking hold of the paper and reading what was on it.

"Read it out loud." he told me. I gave him a suspicious stare before turning my gaze back to the paper.

"For this year only, and thanks to the generous donations from numerous families, we will be holding the first ever Halloween Bash. It's an event in school that'll feature booths of fun, food, music, art and prize earning. Every student is to participate in either area of entertainment to cater to students from the neighboring middle school and parents there. The proceeds earned will go towar-."

"Skip that part and just read the last sentence at the bottom."

I scanned the bottom for the last sentence.

"The class that has the most successful booth will get to enjoy a free trip, courtesy of the school principal, to the Shimbuya Amusement Park for the whole school day."

Huh. So the school decided to hold a festival?

"Sounds great, huh?"

I raised an eyebrow at his comment. "I didn't think you even liked this kind of stuff?"

"I don't." he said, shrugging his shoulders. "But this is the perfect opportunity to get a day off from all this homework crap. And also?" he smirked deviously. "We can ditch whenever we want without worrying over the teachers finding out."

Oh. So this was the angle he was working at. Can't say I'm surprised.

He leaned back against his locker with an annoyed expression. "Why are you giving me that look like I just said something bad?" he pointedly asked.

A merely shrugged my shoulders in response. "Because what you said was completely like you. That's all." I told him.

"Like you'd rather spend seven hours with a couple of teachers and students from class?" he countered.

"No. But I don't think our teachers would appreciate us leaving their sights to go elsewhere."

"I didn't say we'd leave right away. You have to play the part first and get them thinking that you won't do anything before doing something."

"But that doesn't change the fact that you're still thinking about ditching the class for pizza."

"You know me so well." He smirked back, head tilted to the side, his golden hair...falling over his eyes...with his arms crossed over his chest in that way...

Stop it. Stop it. Stop it!

Ahem. Ok.

"Whatever..." I grumbled. I had to turn my head away so that he couldn't see the huge blush marring my face. And believe me when I say the last thing I need is for him to make fun of me. Or worse, accuse me of thinking perversely.

For if he only knew what ran through my head when I saw him.

(AND NOT LIKE THAT! GEEZ! IM NOT THAT PERVERTED!)

I turned back to my open locker (successfully covering my flustered face) and hooked the lock on it to close it.

I heard him snicker behind me, but paid no mind to it. Whether it was about my face or something else entirely different, I wasn't going to bring it up for discussion. I'll let him have his fun...for now.

"Was the bean just blushing right now?"

I felt myself twitch.

"Was it something...naughty?"

Ok. On second thought...

I turned around, shaking all over in anger with my eyes burning fire through him. Or to put it better, I was attempting to turn him to ash with my look.

(Good thing those few girls from earlier left already.)

"What's the matter, little bean girl? Did I guess right?"

Snap.

And there goes one of the veins on my head.

"You...you...YOU JER-!"

Ring. Ring. Ring.

It was time for lunch.

I stopped my fist (begrudgingly) from touching his arm and looked at the hoard of students leaving their classes, breaking out in laughter and excited chatter. He kept smirking, so I stuffed my fist into my skirt pocket and swiftly turned my back to him.

I heard him let out a chuckle as I marched towards the cafeteria.

"Are you mad at me?" he taunted.

"No." I grinded my teeth together from his obvious mirth.

"Yes, you are."

"No. I'm. Not."

"Your voice says it all."

"And why do you think that is, huh?"

"Don't know. I was hoping you'd tell me."

"Well, figure it out yourself!" I spat out. That dumb jerk knew better than to call me a bean and fluster me like he did. Grr! He is soo insuffera-!

"Ah!" I felt myself being pulled back by the shoulder till my back collided with something warm and hard. I looked back to see Ratatosk's chest, his scent invading my system the second I got a whiff of it. Oh, boy.

"You're going the wrong way." he said with a chuckle.

I felt the vibrations of his voice coursing down his chest and causing a tingly sensation to my cheek. With his arm draped around my shoulder, I could faintly feel his steady heartbeat as his warmth was causing my eyelids to droop and my mind to go a little hazy. It felt really good to be pressed up to him. So warm...

"Hey. Are you ok?"

I felt myself immediately snapping out of the trance I was in and whipped my gaze to his in shock.

"Uh, well..."

"You look kind of feverish."

He looked genuinely concerned for my well-being. And I felt more embarrassed because I was blushing from the close contact, while he assumed it was from an illness.

"N-No. I-I'm ok. Really! Hehehe..."

One of his eyebrows raised upward in question. "Are you sure?"

"Y-Yeah. Of Course." Come on, blush. Go away. Go away, now. Pleeease!

"Hmm..."

He didn't look convinced in the least.

"I-I wouldn't lie to you about something like t-this. Theres n-nothing to worry about. Honest."

Gah! I'm trying to hard to convince him and I think he knows it, too! Ugh! Why isn't he believing me?

"I don't know..." he drawled out suspiciously.

Ok. I need a new distraction. Come, on...think, think, think!

Um, uh, uh...aha! It's perfect!

Now all I had to do was present him with a convincing proposition.

I mustered the best look of confidence (to the best of my ability) and stared him straight in the eye, gulping momentarily from the look on his face.

"W-Well! Are we just going to stand in the middle of the hall arguing this OR?" I quickly averted my eyes around the halls. Luckily, everyone set out for lunch. And I can't believe myself, for a second, for wanting to suggest this. But it had to be done.

"Or...do you want to eat out at the Pizzeria today?" I whispered to him. Better to be cautious in case anyone was listening in from a corner.

And just as I expected, I saw the thin line of his lips turn upward and his eyes gain a certain gleam common to him. Oh, here it comes.

"I like the way you think, Lualdi. I'm starting to think that all my influence is finally rubbing off on you."

I puffed my cheeks out in annoyance, wagging a finger at him. "W-Well, don't get used to it. Got it?"

He smirked proudly. "Of course."

He slung his arm around my shoulders again (cue mild dizzy spell) and led me out the front doors where we ventured towards the Pizzeria.

And its such an amazement that I can't properly stay mad at him for long.

* * *

After spending some time at the Pizzeria, eating and engaging in light chatter (to which I only had to hit him on the arm once for bringing up the hallway incident and how I, and I quote, "Enjoyed being in his big, strong arms." Like I'd ever admit that to him), we headed back to school unnoticed. We carefully slipped through the entrance doors a minute before the bell ending lunch was scheduled to go off and made our way to the lockers to retrieve our books.

We have science with Ms. Rain today. And that's always an enjoyment.

I quickly stuffed my science and English language book into my backpack and turned to see Ratatosk already zipping up his.

"Ready for the wonders of dissection?" he says with full-on sarcasm.

Hearing him say this caught me off guard, though. Because I think my mind went into a brief state of blankness.

"W-What? We have to do dissecting today?"

"Yeah. Dont tell me you forgot?"

"Ah! N-No. Wha-why would you think that?" I tried to play it off like nothing. But deep inside, I was a nervous wreck. I really, REALLY hate dissecting things. The sight of organs makes me nauseous and the smell definitely throws me for a loop...when I fall to the ground in faintness.

Good thing he doesn't know that. I can't imagine the endless mocking from him if he did know...

"Are you...scared of dissecting animals?" he asked with a wide grin.

I felt another round of embarrassed blushing coming over my face and I mentally fought against it happening, putting my thoughts on dangerous territory- dissection, to be precise- to avoid such a reaction. It helped a little...well, enough so that I felt the heat as a small patch on my cheeks. Unfortunately, it was still noticeable by the smug look on Ratatosk's face.

"I-Im not scared." I told him hesitantly. I pretended to maneuver the books inside my backpack with my head down in utter desperation to conceal the fear that I was sure had been showing on my face. Not sure if that made much of a difference, though, considering the snickering coming from above me. "Really!" I exclaimed in frustration from his laughter.

"Really now?"

I whipped my head up to glare at him. "Yes!"

He slung his backpack over his right shoulder and walked closer to me, leaning down so that we were at eye level. My heartbeat spiked up a few notches. "Ok, then. Lets see how you do on the experiment. I mean, since you're not scared of cutting up a poor little froggy who's already dead...and fresh for dissecting." he said, emphasizing every syllable on the last word- the dreaded word.

I could only grimace at what he said, picturing the dead amphibian with its limbs pinned down to form an 'X' of the body and the familiar odor of death lingering around its carcass. Or how the smooth blade would pierce through the rough texture of the dulled skin, through the thin layer of fat and muscle, puncturing a tiny heart as a spread of body fluids clings to the metals edge like slick syrup. I felt faint just thinking about it.

A chill runs up my spine and jolts me back to reality, where Ratatosk is giving me a knowing look that says, "I know you're scared to do it" and I'm all too aware of the awkward silence that I fell into.

"Thinking about how you'll keel over from the sight?"

I give him my best pointed look, inwardly cringing again from his words, as I force out a firm, but slightly hesitant, "No."

He walks past me with a smug look, turning his head back with those gleaming eyes of his. "Well, then. Lets get to class and see how brave you really are."

Grr.

He was riling me up all too quick, that jerk. But I wasn't about to back down like some coward. For whatever reason, he's always able to pull out this rebellious part inside of me and make me frustrated beyond belief. I was never like this. But something about Ratatosk changes the way I feel and act.

And lets not forget: this is Ratatosk were talking about. He's a natural at making a person's blood boil.

So I take a better grasp of my backpack straps and march confidently past him and towards the science room. I'm NOT gonna let him one-up me this time around. He's going down!

Ha! Oh, yes. I'm feeling quite confident about this, about proving him wrong. I can almost imagine swiping that smug grin off his perfectly good fac-

Blah! I've gotta stop doing that.

I ignore that last thought and march down the hall with the utmost confidence that I can show him otherwise. I feel like I can really do this. Heck, it'll be a breeze to do. I mean, all there is to it is cutting up skin and doing a worksheet on the different parts to the frog anatomy. Nothing more than guts, flabby skin, organs, some blood...and intestines...and...deathly odor...

Mmph. And there's that sandwich from last night trying to come up. Hopefully, Ratatosk didn't notice my hand fly up to my mouth.

Ugh. I don't feel so good.

"We're almost there." Ratatosk said all too pleased.

I think I just got sicker from listening to the arrogant tone of his voice.

And as fate would put it, my nausea didn't stop there. We were but a few feet away from the door that would ultimately lead to my defeat. A picture of an animated frog with the words "Dissection: Today!" was written in bold letters under the drawing and taped neatly in the middle of the metal door. The frog was taunting me. I was sure of it. The X's for its eyes were practically screaming "Murder" in my face. And in a few seconds, I was going to be sitting at my seat with a dead frog laying before me, with its uneven focus and pasty skin color.

Ok. Why was I going through with this again?

Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no! I can't do this. I'm not ready for this project. I can't possibly go ahead and pretend that I'm not going to be cutting up some dead animal.

Breathe, breathe.

I think I'm hyperventilating.

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe, Marta. You have to concentrate. You can't let Ratatosk have his way. He'll make fun of you for life!

But this is impossible. How am I going to cut it up without fainting first? And what if I throw up before that? Will I make a big fool of myself?

Ugh. All these questions, but no answers. I'm losing it here!

Ratatosk quickly walked past me to open the door, the same smug look on his face.

(So much for being a gentleman.)

"After you."

I gulped, looked at him, gulped AGAIN, and clenched my fists together as I entered the brightly lit classroom. And just as I expected, it smelled strongly of dead frog. I walked to the back of the class, with Ratatosk in tow (he's my science partner, after all), and placed my backpack around the high stool as Ms. Rain began writing stuff on the board.

"Ok, class. As you know, today we start our dissection experiment. I'll be passing around a worksheet that lists all the different body parts of the frogs anatomy. You and your partner's job is to locate and label these individual parts with the flags provided at your table, along with a scalpel, pick and two pairs of gloves. Write what the organ or vein is on the flag and I'll be coming around to check your progress. This project is worth 5% of your grade. So I'd take it seriously if I were you. You will be given the whole class period to work on this. I also wrote some suggestions on the board for aiding you in locating certain parts that need more prodding of the inside to find. Now, are there any questions you may have before we start?"

Several students in front shook their heads while the others aimlessly stared off into space.

Ratatosk gave a small chuckle as Ms. Rain handed a student up front a pile of papers to pass around. One by one, the students took a paper and handed it to the person beside them.

Ms. Rain entered the backroom as we did this. And several seconds later, she emerged with a cart full of covered trays.

She looked ready to serve cafeteria food. Or in this case, chemically preserved frog carcasses.

Ugh. My stomach is doing backflips in the nausea pool now. Can this day get any more worse?

"Alright, class." she said loudly, placing a tray in front of these two girls with enthusiasm. "The frogs are ready for a go at inspecting. So lets get started!"

She quickly placed trays in front of each pair of students, taking attendance as she passed each row and marking them off on her clipboard. I felt jittery and ready to flee at any given moment. But to my misfortune, I couldn't escape doing the project without some sort of repercussion afterwards. Not to mention she said it's worth five percent of our grade. My main priority, like always, is to earn good grades so that my mom didnt have a reason to hurt me. I had no choice but to stay and do it.

Too bad it involved cutting up an animal, of all things.

And Ratatosk's stupid breathing exercise isn't working right now. Why isn't it working? WHY? WHHHHY!

"Here you go, Marta, Ratatosk. Enjoy." she told us with an enormous smile on her face.

She really loves her work...a little too much, huh? I think my left eye is twitching.

"Whats wrong, Marta? You're not even looking inside the tray and already you look sick." Ratatosk said in his ever mocking voice.

I gulped and slowly turned my head to the side. And by the look on his face, it looked like the Cheshire Cat has his work cut out for him.

"W-W-Wh-What?" Was the only response that came out, albeit it was meekly said.

I couldn't get the words out of my mouth for the life of me. I tried. Really. But why the heck can't I stop stuttering?

"I-I-I'm, uh, I-I-."

His grin widened as he said, "You're so scared."

"N-N-N-N-No."

"Ok, then. Open the lid."

My eyes (unfortunately) were lured by the magnetic pull of the item sitting an inch away, roaming over the aluminum wrapping that held death beneath it. I could feel sweat roll down the side of my face from the mere thought of a rotting frog laying inside. I wanted to lurch...real badly. I landed my eyes back on him, hoping with all my might that the fear I was experiencing didn't show on the surface.

"Uh, um, uh, well...I-I think you should do it." I picked up a pair of gloves from the table. "I-I still have to put on my gloves. You know?"

"Uh huh?"

"Y-Yeah. An-And I don't want to get any of...the liquid on my skin."

"Riiight."

"S-So I think y-you should open the lid instead."

"Nope."

I felt my body tense. "Nope?"

"Nope."

"R-Really?"

"Yeah."

"B-But why?"

He leaned his head on the palm of his hand, stretching lazily across the table with his famous smirk. "Because." He slowly pushed the tray closer to me. "You told me in the hall that you weren't scared to dissect an animal. I just wanna see how true those words were. So go ahead." His head neared mine, peering up from lush lashes and a wicked grin. "Open the lid."

W-What?

Why doesn't he just punch me in the gut while he's at it? At least that's less painful than being persuaded by Ratatosk to look death in its blank and rolled back eyes.

I averted my eyes between his smug face and the tray in front of me. I did this for several seconds before staring him straight in the eye, letting out a strangled breath as I did this.

"O-Ok. I don't mind doing that."

"Then do it."

"I-I will."

"Of course you will."

"Yeah."

"So why are you hesitating?"

Um, lets see. Because I'm terribly SCARED to do it?

"I hope you're not frightened by a mere frog?" he taunted.

I tilted my head down a little, feeling the nausea and my embarrassment getting to me.

"...en it." I mumbled under my breath.

I swear, it's getting harder by the minute to hold conversation with him...and with a dead animal sitting not too far from my arms. I sneaked a quick glance upward, peering through my bangs, to see the expression on his face.

Ratatosk's left eye slanted in a way that made him even more mischievous at the moment as he leaned his head more forward. His breath tickling the surface of my cheeks.

"What was that?"

"...en it." I mumbled again.

He cupped a hand to his ear in mock-deafness (to my irritation). "I didn't quite catch that. Mind running that by me again?"

Mind if I slap that pretty smile off your face? Ugh!

"F-Fine. I said I'll open it. Happy?" I huffed out, snapping my head up in the process. Now I was scared AND frustrated. And it was all because of him.

He, on the otherhand, looked like he wanted to laugh. "Yes I am. Now lets see that courage of yours, Marta."

"Fine." I said with my best glaring face. I turned to the tray, hovering a hand over the lid separating me from the dead frog and quickly yanked the top off.

And other than the blurring of colors and Ratatosk's concerned voice calling out my name as I felt myself sway about, I don't remember what happened after I opened the lid.

* * *

"_Daddy! Daddy!" a young Marta called out, running over the field of flowers and grass to her father sitting by the bank of water._

_He spread his arms wide open and welcomed the small body that launched into his chest. He smiled widely at the giggling child with rosy cheeks and small pigtails held together by matching flower pins. _

_Marta pumped two fists against her chest, smiling brightly up at her father. "Guess what, daddy?" He opened his mouth to ask, but she talked over him before he could get a word out."...got me a doll for an early birthday present. She's so pretty!"_

_"Really, now?"_

_"Yup!"_

_"And did you tell...thank you?"_

_"With a big hug and kiss to the cheek."_

_He let out a humorous laugh. "Aren't you cute?" he said while nuzzling his nose over the top of her head. "So are you ready to go home?" he asked her._

_"Uh huh. Mommy is making stew for dinner. So can I invite...and...to eat with us?"_

_"Only if their parents are ok with it."_

_She threw her small arms over his neck in appreciation. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"_

_"Hahaha. You're welcome, princess."_

_She lifted her face from his shoulder and gazed up into his eyes, the setting sun beginning to shadow the man's face. "I love you, daddy." she said sweetly._

_A cold ran down her spine and her chest constricted from the change of mood displayed in the older man's face._

_His eyes slanted downward and gained a glazed look to them, darkening much like his face. His smile disappeared right after._

_And he looked like he wanted to cry._

_He hugged her tighter to his body, a slight tremble passed between them. "And..and I love you too, princess. Always...and forever." He kissed her forehead gently, the warmth swept over her face and caused drops of tears to spill over her cheeks. _

_She wasn't sure if it was his or not. But the burning sensation in her eyes said otherwise._

_"Please...don't leave me." she pleaded._

_

* * *

_

A comfortable warmth surrounds me. It tingles the tips of my fingers and crawls ever so slowly to my toes. The effects of waking from sleep pull at me and I can't fight the nerves springing back to life and beckoning me to join the real world outside my dreams.

My eyes felt heavy and I could feel a small headache pounding away. I was momentarily blinded by the amount of light hitting my eyes when I cracked them open, pulling my arms across them like a shield to block it out.

I tried opening them again, only to be met with more light. But I picked up on something gold in my blurred vision. It shined brighter than the light invading my irises. Maybe I'm still dreaming.

Am I dreaming?

I don't know.

I tried to focus my vision again, letting my sight get adjusted to the brightness. It took a while. But eventually, I was able to see more clearly. And that's when I came face to face with Ratatosk's head barely an inch away from mine.

"Eh!"

Out of shock, I pressed my head further back into the pillow and brought the covers over my blushing face.

WHAT THE HECK WAS HE DOING JUST NOW? EEEK!

My nerves, once in a state of calamity, were now shaking uncontrollably. My cheeks felt like they were on fire, instead of the comfortable heat from before. And would it have killed me to have been blinded by the light instead of his bright red eyes and golden hair close up to my face?

And why am I lying in bed? Who brought me here? Is this the nurse's office? But why am I in here? What happened?

In my fit of hysteria, I almost didn't notice the large hand resting on my temple. I looked up into Ratatosk's eyes again, seeing the mirth, but hidden concern, etched into them as he spoke up.

"I guess you're doing all right." He paused, looked intently at me, and spoke again. "You gave me quite a scare there." he said in a softer voice, retracting his hand and sitting back on a chair beside the bed.

I wanted to smile from the sincerity in his voice. I really did (and good thing I had the blanket covering my mouth, in case). But my confusion outweighed everything else. I wanted answers.

"What am I doing here?" I muffled through the thin, white cloth.

His face remained in seriousness.

"You fainted after seeing the frog." he simply said. No trace of humor or mock evident in his voice.

"Oh..." So that's why I don't remember anything after opening the top.

"But I rushed you in here as fast I could." he continued saying. "Ms. Rain was very concerned. She called for a nurse. But I figured it would take too long, so I brought you here myself."

...Wha? Ratatosk brought me here? He did?

So that means...he carried me...in his arms...

H-Huh?

"The nurse said you just merely fainted. But you looked a little feverish, so I had her check you over again."

He ran a hand across his face, pulling some of his gold tresses back, with his eyes looking pained and relieved all at once. He rested his head on his hand, propping it up with his lap, and looking down in hurt. "But I was so shocked. I didn't know what to think. One minute you were stuttering over your words. And the next...your body was falling over the seat. It just-it just fell. It all seemed so unreal for a second there. And you should have seen how pale your skin became. It was almost ghostly white." He let out a strangled breath, his fingers tensing in his hair. "And that hit me the most."

Ratatosk...

I almost can't believe that this broken guy in front of me was the same smirking, happy-go-lucky jerk from earlier. I didn't think his voice could crack like that. But apparently, it does. And it hurts me too.

"I'm just so glad that you're ok." he said in a low voice. Probably more to himself than me. "So don't you ever scare me like that again. Got it?"

I was so engrossed by my own emotions to speak. So I nodded my head, hoping that would suffice. Because in all honesty, I don't like putting him through such worry. I'd rather he make jokes about my height or tease me over my short-fused temper. Anything, if it brought a smile on his face.

He let out a short breath. "That's good to hear." he said, his lips curving up in a small smile.

I smiled under the cover.

He rose from his seat, pushing the chair back under the desk beside me. "I guess I should go now. You need your rest." He turned around, talking normally once more. "And I need to pass the test in sixth perio-."

"Wait." I gripped the end of his shirt (mentally berating myself for being so forceful like that) and pulled it back some. He turned around, giving me his small smile (it doesn't work with his personality) in return.

I gulped down the first set of words I wanted to ask him ("Why was your face so close to mine?"). "Do...do you like melon bread?"

"...Huh?"

"Well, uh...um...you brought me here to the nurse's office. So the l-least I can do is buy you some melon bread for lunch tomorrow." I was feeling more stupid as I talked, so I bowed my head in shame. "A-And I know it isn't much. But I really am grateful for you bringing me here. So...I guess that's all I wanted to say. Sorry."

My face felt like it was swimming in the sun.

Ratatosk looked really confused by the question when I asked him. Most likely he's thinking about what a dope I am. Great. Just great. Oh, I knew it was a stupid idea. I knew it! I knew! I kne-!

"Sure."

"Huh?" I looked back up to see him smiling widely.

"I'll take you up on that offer." He bent down to ruffle my hair. "But maybe we should stay away from green things for a while. I don't want you to faint from green melon." he said cheekily.

I felt my anger immediately flare up.

"I said I'm not scared of frogs!" I yelled out.

"Hahaha. I know. I know. So don't be getting your emotions in a knot." he said, ruffling my hair again. But I didn't swat his hand away.

"Hmph! You're such a jerk." I mumbled to the side.

"Fine. I won't push your buttons...as often." He turned around to walk to the door, but stopped at the door and threw me his usual smirk. "So you get better now. Ok?"

"Like I'm gonna stay asleep here all day." I told him stubbornly (slash half-heartedly, cuz I hardly ever mean it when it comes to him).

"Who'd tease you if otherwise?"

"You?" I sneered out in a sarcastic tone.

"You know it." He smirked widely. We were returning to our old ways again.

"So much for being kind to you." I purposely said, with the intention of making him smile more.

"Hah. Just get better, bean girl." he said before leaving out the door, the soft click diminishing within the silence right after.

And once again, I was left with my thoughts. In an empty room.

Wow.

I still can't wrap what happened around my head. It all seemed so unreal.

So maybe I am still dreaming.

Who knows.

But I do know that I owe Ratatosk a melon bread tomorrow. And the burning sensation on my forehead, where my father kissed it tenderly in my dream, still burns. How weird.

Maybe I'm dreaming?

I run my finger over the patch of skin, feeling flustered for some unknown reason.

I wonder why?

* * *

**A/N:** And there you have it. And sorry to everyone for the long delay. School has been a real itch as of late, with finals and all. But I hope this chapter makes up for it.

And in case you couldn't guess from the title name, Marta's facial mood goes from pink (blushing in front of Ratatosk), to green (sick from the frog), to pink again (another blushing scene with Ratatosk). Clever, huh?

Anyways, press that review button and leave me a kind, little review.


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